


To Be So Lonely

by WritingRagdoll



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boarding School, Bully Draco Malfoy, Dark, Draco Malfoy - Freeform, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gritty, Jealousy, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Mutual Pinning, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Society (Harry Potter), Unhealthy Relationships, draco - Freeform, pinning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 140,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26372875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingRagdoll/pseuds/WritingRagdoll
Summary: Raised as an orphan, Nel Saintday, endured years of torture from the Slytherin House. The Dark Lord only allowed her existence for her to serve a very specific vile purpose for him. Her birthright dictates for her to choose a side in the Wizarding War... But what would happen if she dares defy the Dark Lord and his wishes? And what happens when she falls for her tormentor? Will Nel fulfill her life's purpose? And what side will her tormentor, Draco Malfoy, choose? The light that calls to him or the darkness...
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hey you! Thank you for reading my note. Just some precautions before we continue this story. This story depicts a super toxic relationship. Also keep in mind Death Eaters are not nice people.  
> Story will cover the first part of Book 1, then snippets of Books 2 and 3. The actual story will begin in Book 4 and will progress from there. 

**_1 9 8 1, October 31st_ **

_The man's broom was on fire rapidly collapsing from the night sky as he quickly zoomed into the brick stone pavement._

_He braced himself for impact, holding the wailing child closer to chest in hopes of protecting its frail body. He shut his eyes tightly and was violently tossed off the broom which shattered when it hit the ground. His knees absorbed most of the impact from the great fall. He rolled on the floor tugging the infant underneath his chin and both of his arms._

_Head bleeding, injured, the man lay on the floor pitifully catching his ragged breath. He peer down at the crying babe. The child appeared to be unharmed._

_He let out a sigh of relief. The sky thundered above as a storm approached. He could hear them getting closer, he could see the hexing sparks illuminating the sky as the distance between the two parties shrunk._

_With every muscle aching he stood up slowly, painfully. He saw an abbey standing at a close distance. Limping towards it, still clutching the bundle to his heart he approached the entrance just as the first drops of rain fell._

_He knelt at the doorstop of the Abbey of St. Catchpole and placed the stirring child, red faced child in the front steps. "Shh…," He coed in an attempt to stop its loud crying "Shh…"_

_He looked down at the cherub's swollen face with pity. Perhaps an alternative course of action would've been more merciful…_   
  
_His hands clenched the blanket that wrapped the infant's body from the incoming November chill. His bruised knuckles turning white from the grip._

_"Be good," he whispered before planting a kiss on the child's forehead. "My condolences. I wish you nothing but perfect happiness and a good life. Maybe… Just maybe you'll be safe here."_

_He looked over his shoulder._

_It was time._

_He had to go._

_With one last graze. He stood up and left._

_The child's loud cries echoing the carved entrance of the abbey._

* * *

**STARRING**  
  
THE ORIGINAL CAST OF THE HARRY POTTER SERIES  
  
with  
  
NATALIE PORTMAN as ELOWEN “NEL” SAINTDAY  
  
JENNA ORTEGA as LUCY BONILLA

and

LUPE ONTIVEROS as CORDELIA WOOL

*Cast will be updated as characters are introduced*  
** Cast is obviously adjusted to present character age **

 **AN: Chapters 1 - 8 are context for the story. The real tea starts in Chapter 9, so feel free to skip forward if you'd like.**  



	2. Chapter 2

**1 9 9 1**

"Oi! You said you'd give me five quid for it!" A young girl accused with a stern expression at an older boy. "A quid per pound."

This had not been a fair deal.

The boy wore a smug expression on his fox like face. On one hand he weighted a fat paper bag filled with Dairy Milk chocolate bars and Maltesers amongst other chocolatey goods. The rest of his squad, all just as tall and hulking snickered as they greedily ate the candy.

"I said five quid per pound of quality candy, this is all rubbish. Besides, I hate chocolate! You get squat Dots." He laughed loudly before chewing on a mouthful of chocolate bars.

"But you're still eating it!" She pointed upset.

The group laughed cruelly.

"You better give me my money Nico!" She threatened both fists clenched at her side, eyebrows furrowed into a scowl.

"Or what?" He huffed towering over the eleven-year-old poking her chest. "What are you going to do about it?" He challenged pushing her. "Go and cry to Ms. Wool about it?" He pushed her to the ground, and she fell back to the pavement on her behind glaring at the bullies. She should've really thought this out more thoroughly.

"Just you wait-" She growled out rolling up her sleeves, looking as menacing as she could.

It was then that a startled look crossed Nico's face. He turned white. "Let's get out of here!" His friend slapped the other on the chest and looking terrified as the three scrambled away quickly even dropping the bag of candy on the alley way.

"Ha!" She bounced to her feet triumphantly.

_Yeah! That'll show them!_

It was then that she felt a strong grip seize her shoulder.

_Uh-Oh_

Her legs moved but she felt an object come down hard on her shoulder. She spat a curse and looked over her shoulder to see Mr. Cowell, the owner of the General Store she had just stolen candy from, and the bitter old man did not look pleased. His black cane buried on her arm.

"Oh! You're going nowhere this time you scantly thief!" He pulled her to him and grabbed her shoulder with his hand.

Head sunken low, he walked her back to where she came from. All the way grumbling and muttering insults and curses.

"Should've known you were up to no good, same as always," he muttered more to himself before ringing the doorbell of the old building.

Ms. Wool opened the door. A plump woman with a pig's face that always seemed to be wearing the dreaded color pink. A cloud of gagging perfume usually wafted around the middle-aged woman. Her face immediately morphed into a deep scowl that made her fat bottom lip stick out.

"Can't let you out of my sight, can I?" She glowered at the girl.

"Caught her with her sticky fingers looting my candy jars this time," the upset man pushed her forward making her stumble towards the entrance of the orphanage.

"Oh Phil," Ms. Wool shook her head slightly before digging into a coin purse. "What's the damage this time?"

"'S just candy Cordelia," The old man said gruffly leaning on his cane dismissing her offer. "'Ust make sure this one 'ere stays out of my store!" He pointed his cane at the girl's chest making her inch back.

Ms. Wool's sharp hands sank into her shoulders as she apologized to the store owner and brought the girl inside of the orphanage. Nel didn't feel her stomach sink until the door closed.

"Can't let you out of my sight, can I? You little thieving tyke!" Ms. Wood's polished hand reached for the girl's ear and she angrily pulled on it as she dragged her away into her hellish office. Other children that lived in the home laughed and pointed as they saw the much familiar scene unfold before them. Ms. Wool's office was a damp place, colored in warm pastel shades and drying flowers with floors and ceilings from the 1910's the time when Wool's Orphanage had originally been built.

"I'm not scared of you!" She declared stupidly. "Oh, you should be! You stupid girl!" Wool scolded. "I've had it up to here with you!" She crossed an arm over her forehead. "I've tried being nice, I've tried being patient. Seems like this is the only way you'll understand." She said opening a door next to her office and tossing her in. "In the Chokey you go!"

The door slammed on her nose.

The Chokey was a narrow cupboard that was filled with broken glass sticking out of the walls with nails on the door. It was a place of utter terror that the mere threat of it was enough to make children tremble in fright and fall straight into line. The cupboard was so narrow you couldn't sit or squat in it without being hurt.  
Sometimes kids were kept here for hours. Nel presently had the record for the longest lock in having been kept in for a whole day. Something she was awfully proud of and she felt gave her some pomp and superiority over the other children in the home.

"Let me out of here you wretched witch!" She shouted at the door bending her hand on a glass free spot on the door.

"You will stay in there until you finally learn your lesson! Even if its tomorrow!"

She heard a door slam signaling that Wool had exited her office.

Nel stood in the dark room. Eyes peeled; angry fists clenched at the sides. All she had wanted to do was to make some money to buy some art supplies for her own. After all she was an orphan, not possessing a single penny to her name. It wasn't fair. No matter how hard she tried to hold on to any material possession - every time she got something, anything nice be it a candy bar, socks or a sweater, the gift was usually always picked away by the older, stronger kids in the home. Sometimes she wondered what her life would've been like if she hadn't been dumped in this doldrum.

Nel stayed locked up for hours. Her bored eyes attempted to find shapes in the darkness through a strained vision. Scratching a nail against the door's paint she attempted to carve her name into it as she carefully calculated and planned her next scheme to make money. Perhaps she could scam some local kids into buying pet rocks or swindle them into some equally ridiculous scam. She made a mental note to next time make Nico and his goons pay her before engaging in business with him.

That was until the door opened. The light momentarily blinded her.

"There you are!" A younger voice spoke and the eleven-year-old was brought into a warm embrace. "Are you okay? If you know that Nico Shaffer and his gang are going to do you dirty why do you keep hanging out with them?" Lucy, Nel's absolutely favorite person in the world, said holding on to her arms with care.

Lucy was only a couple of years older than Nel.  
The young girl couldn't remember a time in which anybody else that had ever cared for her. Certainly not Ms. Wool. The girl was more of an older sister than just a fellow housemate.

"I have to show 'em who's the boss around here," Nel said with a huff before sticking her hand into her pocket and handing her friend some candy. "I got you some Whoopers," she grinned handing over her friend the candy.

"Sometimes I think you enjoy setting off Ms. Wool," Lucy shook her head and regardless took the candy and pocketed with a smile.

"Only sometimes," the girl smiled cheekily.

The two girls made out of the office quickly hand in hand.

"Stealing is wrong Nel. Don't do it again." the older one scolded to deaf ears that would most definitely do it again. "What did you even want that money for?"

"I wanted to buy some paint. You know? So that I could paint my walls."

"Your walls or _Wool's walls_?" the Lucy rolled her eyes knowing that the young girl would probably paint a splash or horrendous colors in the cafeteria which would mortify matron. "You know Ms. Wool would most definitely not allow that."

The younger one smirked slightly having been caught in her mischievous plan to bring some life into the dull building. "We practically live in a jail Luce, it's not fair. Maybe just- maybe some color would make everybody's day better? It was for the greater good!"

"Hey Nel! Heard you stole some candy from old man Cowell!" A younger boy called from the corridor. Enjoying the attention, the girl turned and threw a candy at him "You bet!"

"Stop it! You're going to get in more trouble," Lucy slapped her hand as they reached the small room were the young girl was kept to herself. Nel didn't care. That boy owed her now. She'd think of what favor she'd bug him with later. Maybe she'd ask him for his bread if she was ever locked up without dinner again.

Her room had once been the laundry room and broom and storage, but a bed had been added for the girl to sleep in. She slept there alone, mainly for the safety of others… You see, _weird_ things tended to happen around the girl -

"Ms. Wool!" A loud sing song voice called. "Nel still has some candy and is keeping it to herself!" A most pesky snitch alarmed loudly.

Both girls turned to glare at Aisha by far Wool's favorite and a total kiss ass. Always wearing pink in an attempt to please their matron.

"Shut your mouth Aisha or I'll shut it for you!" The other shouted angrily from across the corridor.

It was then that Wool came stomping by from around the corner.

"SAINTDAY!" She bellowed her surname angrily. Her eyes scanned the corridor for the young girl before focusing on her. "Ah, there you are!" Her eyes turned into slits.

Aisha smirked looking pleased with herself.

Nel shrunk a little, hiding behind Lucy. She was bracing herself for the scold that would come from exiting the chokey when she saw that a tall man with a long white beard and peculiar lavender robes was trailing behind the wide matron.

Ms. Wool sank her hand into Nel's lower arm and dragged the girl inside of the small room, the man tailing behind entered as well. Lucy was locked out; she hung her shoulders lingering around ready to press her ear against the door. _What a most peculiar looking man…_ She thought to herself.

Wool knowingly stuck her head out before Lucy pressed her ear against the door and barked at her to get lost which sent the fourteen-year-old skulking away.

Back inside Wool turned her attention to the brunette.  
  
"What have you done now you wicked child?" She glared hands on hips demanding an answer.

"I did nothing, swear!" She said innocently raising up her hands looking at the older man with the half-moon glasses with an innocent expression.

Albus Dumbledore looked at the expression on the child's face that was sitting in the small bed. Despite the pout on her face there was an air of mischief that made him aware that he should know better when trusting her.  
It had been decades since the last time he had been to Wool's Orphanage. The last time had been under similar circumstances instead visiting a student with the last name Riddle.

"You will apologize to the man and tell me what you did!" Wool knelt and pinched the tender part of the girl's arm making her painfully hiss at the sensation.

"That is enough Ms. Wool," Dumbledore said sternly glaring at the Muggle woman.

"I am here on official school business," the man with the twinkling eyes said stroking his beard. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, I am the Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardly and I have come to personally deliver Ms. Saintday her letter of acceptance."

"School of _wizzah which_ what?" Wool cocked her head at an angle and narrowed her eyes in mistrust.

She took the letter from the man eyeing the parchment sealed with an official wax stamp with wary eyes. Nel never received any mail. As far as she knew there was nobody outside of the orphanage that would write to her.

_Miss E. Saintday, Laundry Room, Wool's Orphanage, London._

Blinking twice she ripped the envelope open. Curiously reading the contents of the green letter head.

  
_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY  
  
_Underneath was the Headmasters name. Followed by an acceptance, instructions for admission and a list of texts and materials that would be required by the school. The letter was signed by the Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, in a curvy signature.

Nel hadn't even bothered to listen to what Wool was bickering about with the Headmaster.

"Is this real?" She asked the man with her eyes growing wide. "This is not a joke is it?"

"As real as you and I Ms. Saintday," The man smiled down at her kindly.

The man who had introduced himself as Albus Dumbledore explained that there was another world which was unknown to, to regular or non-magic people that were called Muggles and the Nel was a witch. A powerful being capable of magical powers. He explained this was all extremely secretive and that nobody must or should know. He explained that Hogwarts was a most prestigious school and the Wizarding School of the UK were most witches and wizards attended for seven years to earn their education.

"You don't want this one I'm telling you!" Wool suddenly laughed loudly. "She's brought me nothing but trouble since the day she was left in my doorstep!" Nel ignored her with a glare. "Set my curtains on fire, once somehow made a student magically appear on the roof, made my teapots sing! Summoned snakes out of cookie jars! Lightbulbs explode around her! All sorts of devilish things! I know she bullies the other kids. I don't know how she does it, I just haven't caught her yet. And school-" She laughed woefully. "Not a single knot or bolt in this one's empty head." She knocked on the back of her head, which made the girl rub the sore spot. She turned to look at the Headmaster with fearful eyes. Would he withdraw his invitation now that he knew this?

"I believe I myself once set fire to my dorm's curtains. An atrocious shade of red. _Accidentally of course,_ " he smiled once again which brought some comfort to the orphan.

"Forget about it!" Wool exclaimed getting ready to exit the room. "I'm not going to fork a single penny over so that _this one_ can go to a fancy boarding school to learn how to pull rabbits out of a hat!"

"I assure you that money will not be a problem Ms. Wool. There is a special fund set aside to assist students with financial needs. Of course, Ms. Saintday will have to maintain an outstanding average to maintain this scholarship."

"Ha! That's a lost cause," Wool huffed humorlessly.

She was ignored. The older Wizard stood up and met the girls' dark brown eyes. Eyes that to him seemed distantly familiar.

"So, what do you say Elowen? although I believe you go by Nel," he inquired.

"What do I say?" She repeated. If anybody had asked her what she really thought, she would've said this entire thing was a hoax. Maybe this funny looking man was actually a child napper, but anywhere was better than Wool's. However, he did not seem harmful, not like the type of man to be vile or malicious. "Of course!" She jumped to her feet. Worst case scenario Wool had always warned her that if she was ever kidnapped that the kidnappers would have to pay _her_ a ransom to take her back.

"Very well then," Dumbledore bowed slightly at Wool. It was then that he pulled out a wand from inside of his long shimmering sleeves. He turned to her little belongings and flicked his wand opening a suite case and made all of the clothes, shoes and other little objects leapt in, in a neatly folded manner.

Nel's mouth gaped a jar at the magic in fascination. Wool looked terrified.

"It's real!" She exclaimed with disbelief.

"I'll be waiting for you at the entrance Ms. Saintday, so that you may bid your goodbyes and gather other belongings," he said as he headed towards the exit. "Wait!" Nel stopped him tugging on the back of his robe. "Can my friend Lucy come with us to? She's brilliant, much better student than I am!" She pleaded.

The man stopped and looked back at her kindly with his twinkling eyes.

"Nel," he began. "I'm afraid that Hogwarts is real for us, but it is not real for Ms. Bonilla," he began to explain. Somehow already knowing Lucy's last name. "Ms. Bonilla is a Muggle, and only witches and wizards can attend or see the school."

"But-" She pleaded. "Can you make an exception? She'll work hard I promise!"

Dumbledore placed a hand on the girl's head. "I'm afraid not child," he rested his hand there for a moment before vanishing into thin air.

Nel looked at the ground sadly. What would she do? She couldn't leave Lucy behind like that.

"Don't look so sullen," Wool's voice suddenly made her snap out of her thoughts. "You'll be back soon. I give it a day before that man is back begging me to take you back from who knows where," she said sticking her nose up in the air. "Very well then, say your goodbyes, Ta-ta." She clapped her hands and pushed her out of the room.

She looked at the austere corridors and the dirty floors recording them all into her memory. She would've really loved to splash them with some bold greens and yellows just to bring some life to this decadent place. Ms. Wool passed her in the hallway.

"Clown's come to take you back to the circus?" A voice called from one end of the corridor making her head snap in the direction. "'About time _Freak Show_ ," It was Aisha and Alf, two other members of the house who frequently taunted Nel.

"At least I'm getting out of here unlike the likes of you!" She shot back.

"At least we weren't _abandoned_ here. Even your own parents didn't want your wart-face," Aisha laughed cruelly.

Nel stayed silent. That one hurt. The fact that she was an unwanted child hurt her more than she would ever let on. After all most kids living at Wool's belonged to parents that had lost custody of them, had been deported or had even passed away. Nel had been one of the few that had willingly been surrendered at an abbey's doorstep without a single hint or clue of who she was.

The day she was found they sought for records of her or the people who could be her parents yet found none. She was named by a Cornish nun and given the surname Saintday having been symbolically found on November 1st, All Saints Day.

"Yeah, nobody's going to miss your ugly spotted face 'round here," Aisha stuck out her tongue making a reference to the dotted beauty marks that marked the girl's face; which was considerably her most striking feature. She had managed to count at least ten of them. The marks were scattered in the figure of something, but she didn't know exactly what it was.

Angry she rolled up the sleeves of her black jumper.

"Want a souvenir so you don't miss me too much?" She threatened with a raised fist.

She was about to walk forward and put the bullies in her place when two hands reached and turned her around.

"Is it true?" It was Lucy kneeling down to her level to meet her eye. "That you're leaving?" Her dark eyes were wide with concern.

Nel looked down, almost in shame avoiding Lucy's eyes. "I know it's sudden, but I've been accepted to a school in Scotland. That funny looking man, he's come to take me," she wanted to tell Lucy she was a witch. Wanted to explain what it meant, but the vow of secrecy kept her from doing it. "But- I'm not sure if I want to go," she said feeling a sudden emptiness inside her. "You won't be there-"

"Nonsense!" She exclaimed. "You're going."

"I asked if you could come but he said no!"

"Doesn't matter," Lucy smiled at her encouragingly. "Just promise you'll call. Yeah?"

With her eyes brimming with rare tears Nel nodded and hugged her tightly. "Go," Lucy ushered her off. "Make the best of it, learn and most importantly be good Elowen Saintday."

The girls beamed at each other. "I'll see you during the holidays!" The younger one cried. She didn't know what she would do without Lucy.

"Oh," Ms. Wool crowed looking down at the troublemaker. "You'll be back," she added smugly. It seemed like the woman was getting ready to enjoy the peace and quiet that would come. For now, Elowen Saintday would be somebody else's problem.  


* * *

STARRING  
  
THE ORIGINAL CAST OF THE HARRY POTTER SERIES  
  
with  
  
ADAM DRIVER as SEVERUS SNAPE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Any "To Protect" fans out there? Shoutout to you!


	3. Chapter 3

**1 9 9 1**

Albus Dumbledore seemed like a kind man. Then again, that was when you compared him to old, grouchy Mr. Cowell, a man who had given Nel the impression that all old people were bitter and limped with a cane.

The Headmaster took the girl to a place called The Leaky Cauldron. It seemed to be a blend of a pub and a hostel. There were many people there all wearing odd or peculiar robes, something the eleven year old interpreted to be wizarding fashion. The place was dark and stuffy, yet it was better than Wool's. Hell, anywhere was better than Wool's. On the way there the man had explained to her some of the more complex intricacies of the wizarding world. Rules that she ought to know, decrees of secrecy, the difference between wizard and muggle currency, amongst more information.

In part Nel cried on the way to the Leaky Cauldron which made her face swell. She had never once left Wool's, even worse she had never been completely alone and apart from Lucy.

"I'm afraid I have more pending matters to attend. Busy day, the day before the first day of school you see? Which is why I've appointed a professor to escort you and aid you in gathering your school supplies," Dumbledore said. He gestured to a man that was approaching them that reminded Nel of a giant bat.

The professor was tall, with a large nose and shoulder length black hair dressed all in black. His lips were fixed into a serious thin line and he looked beyond irritate to be here. Overall he seemed to carry an cloud of gloom and looked to be permanently irritated. He looked like somebody that shouldn't be crossed.

"This is Professor Snape," Dumbledore introduced. "He's the Potions Master at Hogwarts and will also be your professor this year."  
  
"Professor, sir" she nodded her head towards him respectfully unsure of how to proceed. Respectfully interacting with adults had never been her forte.

"Miss Saintday," Snape simply acknowledged her.

Dumbledore nodded her to head to her assigned room and leave her small suitcase there. She did and on the way wondered at everything in sight, opened the wrong room and encountered a mummy, opened another door which had a strong gust of wind blow her back into the wall before closing before reaching a normal one she assumed was her own.

Oh how she wished she could tell Lucy. She would not believe the things she was seeing! Once again her eyes swelled with tears and she returned to meet Dumbledore and Snape who seemed to be having a quiet discussion about private manners.

Dumbledore looked at her with an unreadable expression, it wasn't exactly empathy but something else in his eyes. Maybe wariness?

Snape looked at her and his expression became even more irritated at the girl's red, swollen face.

"There will be no foolish weeping in my presence Ms. Saintday," he didn't even offer her anything to wipe her face. He starred until she wiped her tears and nodded. "Are you done?" He drawled out sarcastically poking at her tantrum.

They were about to leave when a man approached them.

"Oh, this is Professor Quirrell," Dumbledore signaled at a stammering man who was wearing a purple turban over his head. "He'll be your Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"F-F-Fascinating subject," he stammered trembling. He looked down at the girl. "I-I look f-forward to h-h-h-ha-" Nel looked at him oddly wondering if he'd ever cough up the word. This was the kind of thing that would get you roasted back in Wool's home. She didn't even want to think about the pain of having this man as her teacher. "Having y-you in m-my c-c-class."

She was about to respond but Snape beat her to the punch.

  
"I've wasted enough of my time as it is," He interrupted rudely obviously referring to the man's speech disability. He raised a hand and perched it in the back of her neck walking her out of the Leaky Cauldron. "Let's go get your school supplies."

"Where are we going sir?" She asked as they approached a brick wall that was near the pub that was littered with trash. "Diagon Alley," he stated as if it was the most obvious fact in the world.

"What's that?" She asked. "Why are we going there?"

"Are you going to be asking questions the entire time?" His voice dripped of irritation.

"Can't help being curious sir," she said a bit more teasingly this time.

Snape grumbled something to himself and pulled out his wand tapping a pattern which made the bricks shift away revealing a bustling street.

Eyes wide, mouth gaping, the eleven year old starred in awe. Snape eyed his student and the edge of his lip turned up.

"We're here," He said in a nasal tone.

Witches and wizards scampered and bustled from one side of the street to the other. Most wearing pointed hats and robes. Children and what Nel assumed to be students also gathering their school supplies were looking from parchments and up and the magical displays on the stores' windows. Others were simply happily chatting with each other, gladly going about their day or enjoying an ice cream by a nearby parlor.

There were sparks everywhere, owls, and clouds of vapor rising from the chimneys of the stores which seemed to have been erects centuries before.

It was incredible.

  
Everything caught her eye, everything was new, everything was exciting. The stimuli almost made the child feel giddy. At the end of the street there was a massive white marble building. It stood striking and mightier than the others looking official.

"What is that?"

"That's Gringotts," Snape explained. "It's the wizard bank. It's where you would keep your money if you had any."

_Ouch._

"Sir," She frowned at his jab. "That was a low blow."

The edge of his lip curled upwards in amusement.

"Ran by goblins, despicable creatures," he ignored her response.

The two past several stores and Snape sighed in annoyance whenever Nel pressed up her nose to basically lick the display glass windows and marble at the items inside like many other children. Flying broom, beautifying potions, owls? This place was better than Wonderland!

"I'm leaving you here to get your robes fitted. In the meantime I'll go get your cauldron, quills and other equipment that your school curriculum requires. When I return we'll go to Flourish and Botts for your text books and then to Ollivanders for your wand and then back to the Leaky Cauldron. Understood?"

She nodded with mock obedience and the slightest of sly smirks made way to her face. Snape looked at her with mistrust and arched an eyebrow.  
"Don't test my patience Saintday."

Nel was taken into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, where Snape paid for her uniform and robes using the scholarship money that Dumbledore had given him before stalking off.

The girl would've never admitted it but she was nervous at the trying. She had never owned any new clothes, much less anything that had been made and customed to her perfect size and fit. Madame Malkin was a blonde witch elegantly dressed in mauve who escorted the girl inside of a room and asked her to stand before a mirror. She dropped a black robe on her shoulders and took her measurements. Measuring tapes and pins began dancing around her body magically pinning and measuring her perfect fit. She was too distraught and excited to pay any attention to the two eleven year old boys that seemed to be bickering just a couple of feet away from her.

It took about an hour for her to have her brand new robes ready and neatly wrapped in a purple paper wrap with a golden string. Nel was alone and snape wasn't back. Her eyes wondered up the street where she saw Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. She liked her lips, the temptation of an ice cream cone to much to keep her waiting for the potions professor. Maybe she didn't have any money, her eyes wondered to an older wizard who was sitting nearby obliviously reading the newspaper. How hard could it be to pickpocket a wizard? It was tempting, definitely very tempting. She gave a sneaky step forward ready to sneak around the oblivious man.  
  
"Going somewhere?" Snape's nasal drawl made the girl come to a halt. "Nowhere professor, sir," she said spinning on her foot flashing him her most saccharine innocent grin, but Snape was no fool he knew better. He seemed to be dragging along a levitating trunk with the required items on the shopping list. He rolled his eyes.

"Sir can we get some ice cream?" She pipped, jumping a little as they walked in the direction of the parlour "Please?"  
"No," he said dryly without missing a beat. Still walking in the direction Nel was hopeful that he would change his mind but instead they went to the book shop called Flourish & Botts.

She groaned as they walked in. Nel had never particularly enjoyed reading. She didn't even like the smell of them as she walked into the bookstore which seemed to have walls and walls of them from the floor all the way up to the ceiling.

Snape walked around with familiarity waving books with his wand for her to hold. She held them in her arms the stack growing bigger and bigger until it reached past her nose. The weight of them making her strain as she walked.

"I have to read _all_ of this?!" She said in horror.

  
"I've added some extra-curricular material which will be useful to you."

Nel was more than certain that the man was torturing her.

"But I hate reading!" She protested fighting the urge to drop the tower of books. "Too bad," he responded dully without any kind words of encouragement. Again he seemed to enjoy seeing the student in distress. Nel had a feeling that Snape's class was not going to be a walk in the park.

"Ah, Severus. Thought that was you," a smooth voice called.

The teacher and student turned around and faced a tall man with silver blonde long hair that reached his mid chest. It was sleeked back elegantly and wore the type of robes you'd expect to see an eccentric Muggle millionaire wear. The man wasted no time and focused his icy eyes on the student sizing her up by her black oversized jumped and washed out corduroy pants that used to be brown but were now a faded gray beige color.

"I didn't know you had a daughter," he commented leaning forward with the slightest of interest.

Instead of looking shocked or offended Nel arched an eyebrow at her teacher.

As an orphan it was normal for Nel to wonder who her parents had been, what had they been liked, what had they looked like. She had spent years wondering who these people might have been and why they would've felt compelled to abandon their daughter at the step of an abbey during a cold October night.

The thought of Snape being related to her was a far stretch. However, both did have similar features. The matching dark hair and eyes and the beauty marks that dotted both of their faces, it was no surprise this strange man had made such an assumption.

According to what Dumbledore had said earlier apparently not all witches and wizards were descendent from magical parents. Others were also "Muggle born" as Dumbledore had explained. Which was the most likely scenario with Elowen's parents.

"I am simply escorting a new student," the professor responded curtly.  
  
"I see," He said with disdain. He stretched out an arm and pulled a pale, blonde boy with a pointy face that had been standing nearby reading by the shoulder. "This is my son, Draco," he introduced. "He's starting his first year as well. I can assure you, you can expect nothing but great things from the Malfoy name."  
  
"I'm sure," Snape responded in the same dry tone he had denied Nel some ice cream and continued the conversation with the man. It genuinely looked like could care less.  
  
"Know what house you'll be in yet?" The boy asked, his voice had a snooty edge to it as he sized up the girl just like his father had a moment ago. He looked like the type of boy that she'd pick pocked when taking the tube.  
  
"No," She answered, trying her best not to seem confused by his question and to hide the spots of her sweater that had gaping holes and lose threads in them. Dumbledore hadn't mentioned anything about houses. She was going to be in Hogwarts? That was the main house no?

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, obviously," he said matter of fact tone. As if it was the most obvious statement in the world. "But I'm sure I'll be in Slytherin, all my family have been. It's the best house. Isn't it Sir?" He said trying to capture the professor's attention. Again, Snape remained oblivious to this and continued deep in conversation with his father talking about who knows what. Nel looked at him with a bored expression, it was that same tone that prissy kiss ups like Aisha used to talk to Ms. Wool. She had a gut feeling she wasn't going to like this boy much.

"Imagine being in Hufflepuff!" He scoffed. "I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mm," she simply hummed in response mindlessly agreeing with him. Really uncertain of what to respond.

"Why is he here with you anyways? Where are your parents?" The boy pressed on with the conversation. He seemed almost curious. Nel glared at Snape impatiently simply wanting to pay for the damn books and get out of here as soon as possible.

"I don't know," she responded flatly. It was one of those questions that you got asked all the time when you were an orphan. "You don't know?" He raised his eyebrow in disbelief.

"What's your name anyways?" He raised his head to attempt to look taller.

"Elowen," she simply said really trying not to stretch this conversation anymore than necessary.

"Elowen _what?"_ He pressed.

"Elowen Saintday," She answered.

"I've never heard that surname before," he said sounding confused.  
  
_Right. That's because it's made up._  
  
"Where's your family from anyways?" He inquired raising an eyebrow. "Your parents, they're our kind, right?"

The girl guessed that he probably meant magical people when the boy asked what _'kind_ ' of people they had been.

Hogwarts was going to be a new start, a fresh sheet of paper to start a new. She didn't want to get to school and be immediately known as the orphan girl. It would brand her identity for the rest of her days there as far as she knew.

"France," she lied through her teeth.

She wasn't aware that the boy's father had also had an ear glued to his son's conversation. He looked down and actually spoke in French to her. She wasn't sure just what he had said, just stood pale having been caught in such an obvious lie.

"Ms. Saintday is an orphan," Snape explained placing a hand on the nape of her neck a gesture he figured he often did with his students. "Since she has no non-Muggle guardians the Headmaster has entrusted me with the task of escorting her through Diagon Alley today to gather her school supplies."

Her ears burned from the embarrassment. Not of being an orphan but of having been caught in such a blatant lie. She wanted to glare at Snape why did he owe this man whom she had never seen in her life an explanation?

"You're a _Muggle born and an orphan_?" The boy with the slick back gelled hair scoffed at her almost mockingly, his words dripped with apparent disgust as he looked at her with disdain.

"So?" She spat back in a challenging tone ready to lower her books and sock him in the eye.

"Be flattered a Malfoy even spoke to you!" He tossed back pompously.

It was then that his fathers cane came between them. He slapped his son across the chest heartedly making him step back. The cane was black and at the handle had the head of a silver snake carved into it.

"Now, now, Draco, don't be rude," the father said to his son in a cool voice. There was something about it that was unfriendly.  
Between taking a hit from this guy's cane or Cowell she would've taken the old man any day. She flinched when she felt something cold on her face. It was the end of the man's cane, the snake, the ends of it brushed away her brown bangs from her face revealing more scattered beauty mark dots on her face. "What an odd mark," he remarked in wonder looking at the dotted constellation on her face. "Where did you say you were from again?"

"We best get going," Snape interrupted.

_Finally_.  
  
Just when she thought her arms were going to give out. "Very well then," the parent dropped it. He bid his goodbye to Snape and turned away.  
"See you at Hogwarts," the boy her age said before turning away and following after his father.

"Pompous prick." She muttered under her breath.

Snape lead her away and the books went into the levitating trunk that was following them around.

"There's something you should know about the Wizarding World," he began.

She simply arched an eyebrow expecting an explanation.

"Next time do not be so trustful. Not everyone who exerts kindness to you had good intentions Ms. Saintday."

Was he referring to the two rude blondes that they had just met? They were being _kind?_ What conversation had Snape been listening to?

"There are some families in our world that think that they are better than others simply because they come from generations of wizarding families. They call themselves purebloods. All of their names are registered in the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

There was a deep sense of bitterness that boiled in her. Perhaps it was because she couldn't even trace her family tree one generation back. Maybe she'd be just as pompous if she could. Regardless, big deal. All of their ancestors were dead as dust anyway. Not like it mattered.  
  
"And I'm guessing they're in it," she glared at a random spot in the crowds as they approached the wand store.

"The Malfoys? Yes. They've only married magical people and themselves for generations." Snape explained.

"Yuck! That's disgusting!"

Snape neither agreed or disagreed with her statement. "They look down on magical creatures, and specially on muggle born wizards."

"And what are you, sir?" She asked. Unsure if it would be considered rude to ask. Snape remained silent ignoring her question. Typical. "And what am I?" He turned to look at her for a second.

"Muggle born. _Obviously_ ," he drawled out his voice. 

Perhaps he was right.

Snape continued to explain to her more of the Wizarding World that the Headmaster seemed to have left out. He explained to her that Hogwarts had four houses in which students were sorted into according to the virtues and values they esteemed: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.  
Snape, a Slytherin himself, was the Head of the House. However, he didn't seem unbearable like that boy they had just met.  
He also briefly spoke about a wizard ominously addressing the taboo name as 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' which made her roll her eyes. However, the stern look the man gave her a look that meant it was to be taken seriously. Apparently he had been the most powerful wizard of the day and had been taken down by an innocent baby.

She wondered if Snape was messing with her but judging by the grave look in his eyes, he was being dead serious.

Ollivander's was an ancient building that would've made Wool's look like the house of the 21st century. The letters on the door read: Ollivander's - Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C.

Well, that was a long time ago. The bell tinkled as the two stepped inside. Like every other store Nel wondered with awe at the products inside. Rows and rows and columns and columns of long thin boxes filled the shelves of the room. The air was dusty and the light was dim.  
  
"Good afternoon," a voice said.

Nel whipped around looking for the source of it and was taken aback when an older man emerged from behind a stack of wand boxes. He had silver hair and large grey almost white eyes. She couldn't help but wonder if he was 1,700 years old like the store.

"Hi," she squeaked.

He looked at the girl and at the Professor and greeted the professor.  
  
"Ah Severus, seems like only yesterday you were here buying your first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, made out of English Oak. Phoenix Core. Good for magics of the natural world. I'm sure it's been useful to you in your potion making?"

Snape didn't say anything. He simply stood next to the student with his hands crossed behind his back. "I'd say it favors you," he turned to look at the eleven year old who was looking between them like a game of tennis. "It's really the wand that chooses the wizard, after all." He said getting so close to the girl that she inched away from him uncomfortably.  
  
It took several tries and testing several wands to select the right one. None of them seemed to be the right fit.

"What if I just take this one sir?" Nel said growing frustrated holding a brown wand, she had forgotten just what type and core Ollivander had said it was.

"Nonsense. No two wants are the same Ms. Saintday, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand" the man shook his head determined. "Most peculiar," he hummed to himself. "Very, tricky customer…"

Nel looked at Snape with worry. What if she never found a wand? Just like she would probably never find out who her parents were.  
The teacher however simply looked bored out of his mind, wearing his typical emotionless expression.  
  
"I wonder.…" The older man said scratching his chin. He walked away into a hallway and walked a long, long way to the very back. Nel and Snape saw him reach for the very top and pull out a wand box. "This wands been here for a long time. Almost as long as I have," his thin lips stretched into an smile yet it wasn't friendly. The girl couldn't help but wonder just how long that had been. She also couldn't tell if the man was growing more and more frustrated or excited.

"Now Ms. Saintday, why don't you give this one a try?" In total they had tried twelve wands, this being the thirteenth one. He blew on the lid which was covered in a thick blanket of dust from age and opened it to reveal a white colored wand. "Yew and therstal heartstring. Thirteen inches. A most peculiar and grim combination. Just give it a wave."

Without much hope she reached in for it and gave it a quick flick and golden sparks exploded from the tip signaling this wand had been the one.

"Hey!" She beamed triumphantly standing up straighter. This wand felt different from all the other ones. It was an oddly satisfying feeling that couldn't be explained. Her palm felt warm with it in her grip. There was a certain welcoming feeling. It just felt easy, like it made sense for her to have possession of this wand. The wand was long, pale and simple with a slight curve at the end for a better grip.

"Bravo, very good Ms. Saintday," he pondered. "Curious thought… That wand has been sitting in my shelves for almost a hundred years. I was starting to think its owner wasn't going to show." The man seemed to be drawn deep in thought. Ollivander was about to continue speaking. He was about to explain the grim symbolism that yew represented, the tree of death, and the heartstring of a therstal, the creature that embodied death, misfortune and aggression, together in one wand.

"Better late than never, eh?" Nel laughed obnoxiously before waving her wand again making a stack of wand boxes explode and go flying up in the air.  
  
Making the shop owner go silent.

"There will be no foolish wand waving in my presence Saintday!" Snape scolded from behind. She flashed him a cheeky smile in return and apologized. Mr. Ollivander wished her well packing the wand for her in its box and Snape and Nel left with a quick apology.  


"I can't wait to get good at this. I'm going to be the best witch in my class sir, I know it!" She gloated enthusiastically with much pride as the two made way back to the Leaky Cauldron. Snape was practically dragging his feet at this point of the day. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at the childish girl he had been stuck with all day.

Snape walked Nel to her assigned bedroom in the Leaky Cauldron where he left the already organized trunk packed and ready to go. He had a feeling this girl was the chaotic type that would just toss everything inside of the truck and carelessly shut it.

"Also," He said catching her attention. She turned to look at the professor and he stretched out an arm and from underneath magically is pulled out a small cage. It was a tawny brown owl. "You'll need it," he said putting the cage on a nearby table.

"Really?!" She looked at the bird with disbelief. She had always wanted a pet, but having lived under Wool's strict thumb who strictly forbade it. The closest thing she had ever had as a pet were several of those pink lizards that lounge in your backyard. The type that can grow back their tails and eat roaches. She was waiting for him to take it back to say that he didn't mean it. That it was all some mean spirited taunt.

"What will you name it?"

She looked at the owl's large marble like beady eyes which starred back at her curiously.

"How about John Paul? I can call you JP!" She suggested to the owl. Thinking about the names of the two lead singers of that band that Lucy really liked, she decided to name it after them.

Her excitement was so much that she didn't notice Snape visibly cringing at the suggestion of the name.  
"Its name is Barberry," the professor was left with no choice but baptize the owl and save it from the misery of bearing what he considered to be such a ridiculous name.

"Thank you so much sir!" She was so happy she could've cried.

Snape stepped back and out of the room before he was trapped in a dreadful hug. Children really were not his forte.

"One last thing," he said pulling an envelope from the inside of his cloak. "Your ticket for tomorrow," he began. "You are to report at Platform 9 and 3/4 in King's Cross Station on September 1st. Train leaves at 11 in the morning sharp. _Do not_ be tardy Ms. Saintday." He warned the last part. "The train waits for no one and I doubt you will be the exception."

Snape also explained that her dinner, breakfast and lodging had already been paid for by the school. He also mentioned that other Hogwarts students would also be lodging here and to not hesitate and ask for anything I required with either them or downstairs.

"Do not make me regret leaving you here alone," He looked at her with a no nonsense expression on his face. "Wouldn't dream of it sir," she responded with a glint of mischief in his eyes. With that the dark haired man left.

Nel spent part of her day beaming like a dork. She leafed through some of her text books (mainly to look at the drawings and pictures) fed her owl and felt the fresh fabric of her new robes. She still couldn't believe she was the owner of a brand new pair of clothes. That were hers and only hers. After some time she figured it was time to go downstairs and find a phone to call Lucy and let her know she was okay.

Seeing the eleven year old leaning over the bar counter in between several witches and wizards must've been a funny sight.

"Oi!" She said loudly to capture the bartenders attention. "Do you have a telephone?" She asked.

"A teli- _what?"_ He said back just at loudly confused.

_"Telephone,"_ she mouthed louder making a phone sign with her hand and pressing it to her ear. The bartender shrugged not knowing what a telephone was.

"Did you hear?" One witch said to the other one over Nel who was sitting in between them. "Harry Potter is staying at the Leaky Cauldron. I saw him earlier, shook my hand and everything!" She gasped as she spoke about this celebrity.  
  
"Who's Harry Potter?" Nell asked curiously glancing around the room. Afterall she had always wanted to meet a celebrity. However, she had always hoped it'd be Sean Connery.

Both witches gasped as if she had just said the most horrifying thing.

_"The Boy Who Lived?"_

_"The One Who Took Down the Dark Lord?"_

"He survived the killing curse from _You-Know-Who!_ Left a mark in his forehead! Saw it myself!"

"Defeated _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ being only an infant! And lived to tell the tale!"

He must've been the person Snape had brushed over earlier. The witches continued yapping their mouths off until Nel nodded her head understanding and left the bar. She sighed in frustration and retreated to one of the large tables to have her dinner. Sitting down alone, she looked around the room still not used to the unusual aesthetics, decoration and fashion of this new world. She ordered a butternut squash soup and loaf of bread for dinner, something she had never tried before but turned out to be to her liking.

"You know where I could get a telephone?" She asked the waitress again who simply shrugged saying she had no idea what that was.

It was then that she felt somebody starring at her. She raised her head from her dinner and her dark brown eyes met a pair of green-blue eyes. She arched an eyebrow curiously at the boy with round glasses who was looking at her with the same curiosity. He stood before her wearing clothes maybe just as ratty and oversized as hers.

"You were looking for a telephone?" He asked almost timidly.

She nodded not saying another word as she ate her soup. Noticing he was holding a tray with his dinner as he stood next to her.

Nel thought he was about to say he knew were to find one or that he would help her look for one but instead he walked around the table.

"Can I sit?" He asked egg shelling around the table. Again not saying another word she signaled him to please do so.

"So you're a Muggle-born?" He asked sitting down across from her placing a tray with a sandwich and some juice on the wooden table.

She had to admit she was a bit hesitant in interacting with him, specially after how rude that other boy had been just earlier that same day. She also thought about Snape's warning. She was really hoping this boy wasn't one of those pureblood fanatics he had mentioned.

"Yeah, you? Are you a student at Hogwarts too?" She asked trying not to seem too interested.

"I figured. I don't think wizards know what telephones are and yeah. It's my first year," he said taking a bite of his dinner.

Why was he having dinner with her? She figured his parents must be somewhere nearby.

"Oh and were are your parents?" She asked mindlessly sincerely not caring.  


"They're dead," He answered flatly. His tone wasn't bitter, it almost sounded more as if he was stating a fact.  


"What a coincidence," she lowered her spoon. "Mine too… _probably_ ," she said the last part more to herself. Part of her wished to know for fact knew that they were. It'd make everything a lot easier. It would make her existence and abandon less lonely. "I'm sorry about that," she added with a small smile.

If there was something Nel believed in was that orphans had to stick together. The world was already cruel enough as it was.

"My name's Elowen by the way, but my friends call me Nel," she stretched out a friendly hand. He took it with a small smile.

"I'm Harry, Harry Potter."


	4. Chapter 4

**1 9 9 1, September 1st**

Harry and Nel talked a little about Hogwarts, their owls, the magic world and what not. After dinner Nel suggested that they venture out into the alley and go and get some ice cream. Being so late and not wanting to oversleep in the morning Harry persuaded her to stay by offering to share a pumpkin pastry with her. She was never one to complain when it came to food, so she accepted.

The next morning both overslept and left in a hurry. Because they overslept, they didn't have breakfast, instead Nel used her paid breakfast to buy some lemon biscuits to go for the rest of the journey to Hogwarts. Both went dressed in their Muggle clothes packed their heavy trunks and made way to King's Cross taking the tube.  
It must've been odd for Muggles to see them both. Two eleven-year old's alone carrying two large trunks and their caged owls. On the way Nel offered her seat to a pregnant lady who turned out not to be expecting a child and was very upset by her comment. Harry couldn't tell if she had done it on purpose to irritate the woman or not.

They arrived to Platform 9 but there seemed no sight of the 3/4. Nel still looked around anxiously worrying that this whole thing was some type of extremely elaborate prank. She was still waiting for Ms. Wool to pop up and claim her vengeance for the many evils the girl had done to her in the past.

"It should be here," Nel said looking down at her ticket.

Both found themselves lost and attracting the unwanted peering eyes of Muggles. The owls were growing irritating hooting loudly in protest of being inside of their cages.

"What do we do?" Harry asked feeling lost.

"Train leaves in ten minutes," Nel clicked her tongue and looked at a large overheard clock nearby beginning to feel somewhat stressed.

  
_"-packed with Muggles, same every year-"_

Both whipped their heads around. _Muggles._ That was only a word that wizards and witches knew. They had to be magical. Probably heading to the same place.

They spotted and decided to follow a plump woman with wavy red hair and her four children with the same matching colorful hair around King's Cross. All carrying trunks, one had an owl balance on top of his trunk. Yeah. They were definitely going to the same place.

  
"You're not old enough Ginny, hush," the mother scolded one of her children. "Now, Percy, you first."

The boy who seemed to be the oldest took his cart and lined up with the divider between the two platforms. The two eleven-year old's watched the boy attentively as he pushed his cart forwards briskly.

"He's going to crash!" Nel shouted with her big mouth attracting the attention of Muggles and Non-Muggles nearby.

She was in shock when he instead seemed to magically phase through the wall.

"First time?" The plump woman turned to look at the two children with a soft expression. She guessed they were both probably Muggle-born children.  
  
"We don't know how to get to the train," Harry said to her. Not being one to ever ask for help and much less from an adult Nel kept her ears peered waiting for instruction.

She placed a hand on both of the children's arms and kindly turned them towards the wall where one of her kids had just vanished.

"Walk straight at the wall between the platforms. Don't stop, and don't be nervous, or you'll crash, that's key. Best do it at a bit of a run, if you're nervous. Watch Fred," she said addressing one of her twins.

The boy scowled. "I'm not Fred, I'm George! Honestly woman, you call yourself our mother!"

The woman looked flustered. "Sorry George." She waved him forwards dismissively.

The boy grinned cheekily. "Only joking, I _am_ Fred."  


His mother scowled, aiming a swat at his shoulder when he passed. His twin yelled at him to hurry up, and the next moment, George was gone too.  
  
"Go on," She ushered both of the children forward with care. "Before Ron," she said signaling to yet another one of her red-head children whom the others gathered to be Ron.

Harry stepped back allowing Nel to go ahead. Part of her mistrusting nature suspected that he wanted to see if she would slam towards the wall or not. Regardless she nodded and took in a deep breath, gripping her cart tight. She ran towards it elbowing a Muggle on the way. She braced herself for impact wincing at the expected pain. Instead she phased through the wall just like that woman's other children also had. Glancing back over her shoulder Nel could only see a wall. Yet ahead of her- This world was never going to cease to amaze her. Before her on the platform stood a regal scarlet colored engine train that was generously puffing out heaps of white vapor steam. She gaped at it in awe face breaking into a broad grin.  
  
It was then that she spotted a spot of white from the distance.

It was that same rude boy she had meet at the bookstore. His parents were bidding him goodbye as he got ready to board onto the train.

"Oi!" She said quickly approaching him blocking his path and forgetting all about Harry or the red heads. She stood on his way hauling her trunk and owl behind. "It's you," she glared at him.

"What do you want _orphan_?"

_Really?_ That was the best insult he could come up with. How unoriginal. Even Aisha could probably come up with something better. She scoffed at his petty insult.

"About that-" She began starring him down. "Don't tell anyone… about - well, about my family. Please?" Her expression softened a bit.

"Embarrassed?" He taunted with no shame.

"Never," She narrowed her eyes, her expression hardening once again. It wasn't a complete lie. "Not that you'd understand, but I don't want to be known as the orphan girl in a new school. Know what I mean?" She attempted to get him to emphasize just a little.

"And why should I do as you say?" He shot back boarding the train challenging her. "After all, you're just a filthy little _mudblood_ ," He spat the vile world.

  
Nel had never heard such a slur. She had no idea what it meant. She brushed it off her thick skin with no concern having been called worse by others.  
  
She didn't have a single good reason why he should listen to her besides the one she had just given him. If he wasn't going to be reasonable, she left him no choice. She left him no choice.  
  
"Because if you don't - I'll make you regret it," she threatened.

He looked at her for a moment before laughing loudly in her face and retreating inside of the train.

She glared at him. He made her feel that same way Alf and those other bratty kids that were in her life made her feel. Powerless. And that word she had called her. _Mudblood._ She didn't know why it left such a filthy taste in her mouth.

Climbing in the train fuming. She carefully plotted her revenge. She kept a careful eye on the back of his gelled head as he entered a compartment. Nel looked for a place of her own and went inside of the first compartment she could find where three girls and a boy were sitting. Two of the girls were twins and introduced themselves as Padme and Parvati Patel. The other girl had large bushy hair and stuck out her hand formally introducing herself as Hermione Granger and lastly the boy she was to sit next to was dorky looking his name was Neville Longbottom. He was holding a large ugly toad in his hands and looked as if he wouldn't last a minute at Wool's. They made idle talk before the train began to move.  
  
The students in the compartment stood up and were pressed up against the glass waving their goodbyes to their families excitedly.

It was then that the lightbulb went off in her head. An evil smile carved her features as she snuck out of the compartment without another word.

It took her a minute to assemble the tools she would need to make her plan a complete success. Being most resourceful she had to improvise but it would work.

Nel walked a tea trolley down the corridor. The porcelain teacups and pot clinked as she advances. She discretely peered inside the windows of the several compartments looking for that shiny white head savoring the beginning of her petty vengeance.

It was then that she spotted him. He sat on a compartment with two hulking gorillas like looking boys who were laughing at something he said. A scowling girl with shoulder length black hair sat across from him. Nel walked inside unannounced without knocking and stuck in the trolley car. She had tried her best to set up the elaborate display of lemon biscuits she had gotten for her lunch as well as the simple tea party.

It seemed convincing enough.

"Lovely day, ain't it? Lads and lady," she addressed in the most cordial tone she could muster her dark eyes zeroing in on the blonde boy. The edge of his lips curved up in a vile smirk.

"This is the girl I was telling you all about," he said bitterly. "A _mudblood_ orphan," he spat in a tone that seemed to suggest great disgust at her lesser status. There it was. That filthy word again. "And now it seems like she's the help!"

The girl before him laughed obnoxiously loud, the other two boys simply sniggered at his comment.

Alright, you lot of pricks. Nel was even more certain now that she had to do this. They were all officially going on her shit list. She would greatly enjoy what she was about to do.

"Haven't you ever heard of the student service club?" She arched an eyebrow and spoke in the most convincing matter of fact tone she could manage. "If you volunteer you get extra points. We run the Hospitality Trolley. It always passes by right as the train leaves. _Everybody_ knows that."

"Like house points?" The girl asked sounding terribly confused.

Nel had no idea what house points were. She meant like bonus points to a grade point average, but this could work. "Something like that," she shrugged casually and began pouring the tea into five of the teacups on the trolley.

"That's ridiculous," The blonde scoffed suspiciously. "We haven't even been assigned out houses."

"They count towards it. It's magic," she reasoned in a most convincing argument. "Cheers," She said lifting up the teacup and brining to her lips. Hesitantly at first, they followed suit each grabbing one of the lemon biscuits on the table.

"This tea is cold," The black-haired girl looked at the tea cup she was holding with degust. The water was tinted a yellowish shade of green.

"That's because its Norwegian tea," Nel lied through her teeth sounding as snobbish as possible. She couldn't even point out where Norway was in a map, but as long as she sounded convincing enough that would do the trick.

It was then that the four brought the teacups to their lips. "Why does it taste funny?" The round-faced boy asked grimacing at the taste of the cold tea.

"This is the most god-awful tea I've ever had!" The blonde said with his nose scrunched up in great disgust. 

"It takes a while for your pallet to accustom to it. It's a very sophisticated taste," she tried her best not to laugh as she attempted to sound as snobbish as some of the people in cooking shows did.  


"Disgusting. You said this was Norwegian?" The girl gagged sticking out her tongue.

She couldn't help it. A squeak escaped Nel's lips. She laughed a little. "You'd say it tastes kind of _swampy_ right?" She said holding on to her tea cup yet not drinking it.

It was then that the four other students realized.  
  
They went mute for a second and a loud croak shattered the silence in the compartment. Their wide eyes all zoomed into the porcelain tea pot. _Whatever_ was inside croaked once again before leaping out of the pot escaping. The blonde dropped the teacup making it shatter on the floor. He gagged reaching for his throat dramatically acting as if he'd been poisoned. The girl that was sitting across from him did the same and instead sprayed out a fountain of toad tea which wet the blonde boy in front of her. She looked horrified, turning a bright shade of scarlet.  
  
The other boys looked nauseous as if they were going to be sick.

Nel lost her cool bursting out in a loud laugh before running out of the room. She wasn't going to stick and find out just what they had planned for her. Her feet loudly stomped down the corridor as she successfully evaded capture. Thankfully the service cart being inside of the compartment slowed them down in their chase.

She ran inside of a compartment and pressed up against the blind spot next to the door's window heaving, her heart racing from the excitement of the chase. Turning to face the people in the compartment she noticed Harry and that red-headed boy they had met earlier. What was his name again, Ron?

"Oh, there you are Harry," she said in a casual airy tone.

She could hear the footsteps of those other kids stomping down the hallway as they looked for her.

"What did you do?" Harry asked with a shocked expression.

It was then that the compartment door slid open. Nel pressed so hard against the wall behind her she could've morphed into it. The girl that had been in the compartment with them stuck her head in and asked if they had seen the culprit. Both Ron and Harry's eyes glued themselves to the culprit who was holding a finger to her lips pleading for both of them to be silent.

The girl left fuming. Laughing loudly Nel plopped down on a seat next to Harry.

"What did you _do_?" He repeated.

"Somebody pissed me off. So, I went out of my way to make their day," she laughed evilly.  
  
"Who?" Asked Ron curious.

"Dunno," Nel shrugged without mind. It was then that she stretched out her hand across the compartment to Ron.  
  
"Nel Saintday," she smiled brightly. "Pleasure."

Ron's rat squeaked.  
  
The children looked down to see a fat, gray rat which was sitting on Ron's lap.  
  
"Mind Scabbers, he doesn't do anything and is practically useless. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff - I mean, I got Scabbers instead." Ron's ears went pink in embarrassment.

  
Harry shrugged. "The Dursleys never gave me a proper present either." Harry smiled.  
  
"Same," Nel said sincerely. "Best gift I ever got was an ash tray, and I don't even smoke," she snorted jokingly making both Harry and Ron laugh.  


Ron smiled feeling better already.

Moments later a woman complaining someone had stolen one of the trolleys from the front walked in making the girl turn red as she attempted to stiffen her laughter. The woman brought in a trolley filled with a lot full of candy which made the mouth of the children water. Suddenly the girl was regretting giving her lemon biscuits to those toad tea pricks. Ron and Nel would've never said it but both looked at the candy with longing. To their surprise Harry bought the whole thing.  


Nel ate so much candy and without shame she felt like she had grown a second stomach. Ron was the same. Even Ron's rat seemed to eat.  
  
"He'd have died, and you wouldn't know the difference," Ron said looking at his rat with disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but it didn't work. Look..." He drew out a battered wand, the unicorn hair poking out of one end.  
  
"Anyway-"  
  
It was then that the compartment opened. Nel flinched getting ready to bounce behind the wall when she assumed it was one of those boys, she had made to drink the toad tea. It was instead the girl with frizzy curly hair from her compartment. She stepped in.  
  
"Ah, there you are Elowen. We were wondering where you went off to," she paused for a moment. "Has anyone seen a toad?" she didn't ask. She demanded to know. "A boy Neville's lost his."

Nel smirked and sniggered slightly. Both Ron and Harry looked at her perplexed before shaking their heads.

Ron continued to practice his spell at a poor attempt to make his wand turn Scabbers yellow which was a major fail.  
  
"Are you sure that's a real spell?" She said in a know-it-all tone. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard. I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?" She spoke so fast that it made Nel's head spin.  
  
"Ron Weasley," Ron mumbled.

"Harry Potter."  
  
Her eyes widened with interest at Harry's name. For a moment Nel forgot that Harry Potter was a celebrity in the Wizarding World. Hermione rambled about Harry's accomplishments and bragged about all the books she had read.  
  
"Do you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... Anyway, I better go and look for Neville's toad. You three had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon. Your trunk is still in our compartment Elowen."

With that she left.  
  
"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," Ron said irritably. He tossed his wand aside annoyed that his spell failed. "Fred and George gave it to me; should have known it was a dud."  


"What house are your brothers in?" Harry asked curiously.  


"Gryffindor, Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad but imagine if they put me in _Slytherin_." He wrinkled his nose.   


"That's the house Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who was in?" Harry asked.  


"Yeah," said Ron. He flopped back into his seat.  
  
"What's wrong with Slytherin?" Nel asked. Not mentioning that she had met the head of said house the day before.   


"There hasn't' been a single wizard that's gone to Slytherin that isn't a complete git!" Ron said bitterly. It sounded almost personal to him. "Hagrid said they have a reputation, that they've all _'gone bad._ '" Harry explained.

Nel gave her house sorting some thought. She wasn't a bad person. She shrugged a little, whatever house she was in it for sure would not be that one. She felt she was too good for it.

Moments later the door opens again. By this point Nel had lowered her guard and had forgotten all about the frog tea she had made those kids drink.

It wasn't the sweets lady or the Granger girl this time. It was that blonde boy she had met at the bookstore. The two boys that resembled his own personal bodyguards standing closely behind. One of them cracking his knuckles ready to pummel her.

_Uh-Oh._

_"You,"_ He growled out dangerously glaring at the girl.

He was about to say something horrible to her when he noticed the scarred boy that was sitting next to her.

"So, it's true. They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter is in this compartment. So, it's true? It's you, then?"

Harry starred at the three boys at the entrance. The boy flickered his hand at the boys behind him and absently introduced them.  
  
"This is Crabbe and Goyle. And I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Ah, so that was his name. Ron gave a slight cough, not quite disguising his snicker. Malfoy stared down his nose at him.  


"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me _all_ the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." He looked at Harry. "You'll soon find out that some families are better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." He looked at Ron and Nel with disgust. "I can help you there."  
  
Ron looked down in embarrassment. Nel leaned back on her seat with an irritated look on her face as she glared at Malfoy crossing her arms over her chest.  
  
"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks," Harry said cooly making the girl sitting next to him smirk in approval of his response. "Oooh," she laughed at the comment.

"Think that's funny?" He glowered at the girl his ears turning pink from the embarrassment. "I'd be careful if I were you," he warned Harry slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer, you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them either. You hang around riffraff like the Weasleys, Hagrid and _this one_ here long enough, it'll rub off on you."  


Ron and Harry leapt to their feet ready to fight.  


"Say that again!" Ron demanded, going as red as his hair. "Oh, are you going to fight us now?" Malfoy sneered.

"If you don't get out now," Harry said boldly.

"Hardly seems fair," Nel stood up with a cocky smirk standing between the two parties.  
"Three against three? Do you not know how to count?" Malfoy sneered.

She could've sworn she saw one of the boys behind her raise his fingers and begin counting.

"Yeah," She huffed. "But they have me."

One thing Malfoy had underestimated was that you should never cross someone from the streets. Specially if they have nothing to lose. In that moment Nel felt she could've belonged with Nico Shafer's gang of troublemakers. Scrunching her face, she stepped forward and shoved Malfoy as hard as he could making him topple backwards between his friends who also stumbled back barely catching him before falling on his bum. The three staggering out of the compartment.

"Stay away and keep your gorillas away from me Malfoy! Unless you want to find something uglier than a toad next time, you're enjoying a cup of tea!"

He looked aghast at the fact that somebody had actually dared to lay a hand on him. "My father will be hearing about this!" He exclaimed. She rolled her eyes at him. His threat going in through one ear and exiting through the other. With that she slammed the door on their faces and turned around triumphantly.

"You better watch your back Saintday!" Draco leaned in and hissed at her through the window. In response Nel smiled smugly and lowered the blind so she didn't have to look at his pointy face. She heard them retreat with frustrated footsteps.

Harry and Ron starred at her with their eyes wide, mouths ajar in awe. "Some people just can't handle the tea," she smirked.

"Wait- _that's_ who pissed you off?" Harry asked.

"What did you do to him?" Ron asked with his eyes wide.

"You know how that boy’s toad is missing?" She smiled wickedly before telling the boys of the success of her vile prank.

  
Ron was laughing so hard he was holding onto his stomach. It almost looked like he was about to cry. "That's bloody brilliant!" Ron exclaimed falling back on his seat with a broad grin on his face. It was almost as good as the type of prank his twin brothers would've pulled maybe even better.  
  
"Should've seen the look on his face. He could've just died! It was _toad_ -atally awesome," she laughed obnoxiously.

That same night. The students arrived to Hogwarts for the first time. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom and one of the twins that was in the compartment where Nel had left her trunk were all sorted into Gryffindor. The other twin went to Ravenclaw.

Nel was one of the last ones to be sorted.  


The hat didn't even give her a second to participate in the decision-making process. Quickly defining the next seven years and probably the rest of her life.

* * *

STARRING  
  
THE ORIGINAL CAST OF THE HARRY POTTER SERIES  
  
with  
  
ELLE FANNING as DAPHNE GREENGRASS  
  
HARRY STYLES as THEODORE NOTT  
  
and  
  
AMANDLA STENBERG as TRACEY DAVIS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: What House do you think Nel will be sorted into?


	5. Chapter 5

There had to be a mistake.

After a terribly long and very confusing day of classes which included getting lost a handful of times in the castle and landing herself detention. Nel stood outside the office of the Head of her House after a long day of classes.

She still remembered what she had said to Professor McGonagall, the Headmistress, the night before.

_"T-There has to be a mistake," she said looking horrified as she addressed the professor._

_"The hat does not make mistakes Ms. Saintday," she answered curtly._

She knocked on the heavy door waiting for the professor to invite her in.

"Come in."

Snape's office was exactly what you would expect the one of a Potion's Master to be. It had a particular order in which dozens of vials, boxes, and jaws containing ingredients and other substances were scattered all over the room. On his desk was a stack of scrolls that Nel could only assumed to be student essays. He had been the only professor to assign a ten-inch parchment on the first day of school. He had also assigned her detention for not being able to answer one of the questions he shot at her during his lecture. Something that amused her peers to no end.

"Professor McGonagall has expressed to me that you have some concerns about having been sorted into my house," he said bringing both of his elbows to rest on his desk, he pressed his knotted hands against his lips looking down at the girl before him with his black eyes. "Why is that?"

He looked angry.

"You see sir," She began feeling a little small under his gaze. "I'm very brave. The hat must've made a mistake," She looked down at her green tie and robes. "I just think I'd be a better fit in another house. Maybe I'd be a better Gryffindor? I almost feel as if the Sorting Hat didn't even take my opinion into consideration."

Not to mention all of her pureblood house mates had begun tormenting her due to her blood status, or lack of one.

"You don't look very brave right now," Snape said cooly. Making her self-consciously squirm under his gaze. "Recklessness, ignorance and presumptuousness? Are these traits that you wish to associate yourself with Ms. Saintday? He spat.

"No Sir," She responded tilting her chin down feeling ashamed. "Lift your head foolish girl," the professor spoke harshly. He seemed to have been taken this personally. Hesitantly she lifted it, standing a little taller as to not to seem weak.   
"I will not have you floundering in someone's chair when confronted Ms. Saintday. Being in this House- being in Slytherin is an honor that should be worn like a badge of pride. This is a privilege that few get in their lives. Tell me Ms. Saintday, what are the traits of a Slytherin?"

"Ambition, cunning and resourcefulness, sir," she responded looking at him in the eye attempting to seem tougher than she really was.

"Good, now tell me, where you not cunning and resourceful when playing that childish trick on Ms. Parkinson and the others in the train? You must've gone out of your way to ensure that your plan worked out to your convenience. Correct?"

Her eyes went wide. She was expecting Snape to scold her or to take away House Points, but he did neither. Knowing her chamber mate, Parkinson had probably come to snitch on her already.   


"And if I recall correctly you were arrogantly boasting about becoming the _'best witch in your class'_ back in Diagon Alley. A trait which can be most likely interpreted to be ambition."

Elowen sat in silence. There was no use in arguing with Snape. His arguments were valid. He might've been biased in his opinion regarding Gryffindor House but that was to be expected.

"Now, get out of my office and stop wasting my time with such foolish concerns. I expect a ten-inch parchment on the History of Slytherin House for your detention, and don't let me find you with your head lowered for _anyone_ Ms. Saintday, understood?" Snape said coldly.

She groaned at the mentioning of writing yet another essay. Despite the professor’s icy tone. Showing no weakness and being tough seemed to come with the package that came with being a Slytherin.

Without another word he dismissed her.

* * *

Elowen returned to the Slytherin Common room with her head hung low. The worst part of it all was that she had no way of contacting Lucy. Sure, she could've tried to send an owl to her but communication between Muggles and Wizards like that was prohibited. Not to mention the fact that there were no functional telephones in Hogwarts.

_"Cottonmouth,"_ she sighed the password to the portrait and walked through it. A scattered amount of Slytherin were in the common room either hanging out or working on their homework together.   
The common room was like a snake pit, underground, underwater, with dark leather, wood and fabrics of all sorts of emerald hues. The most comforting part about it were the dim green lights that illuminated the room. The little light that came in through the dark windows reflected the shadows of mysterious water creatures that inhabited the lake.

"Back so suddenly?" Pansy Parkinson turned to shoot her a nasty look. "I'd figure Professor Snape would've dealt with you the proper way."

The girls around her sniggered at her comment. Potions class had been really embarrassing today. Snape had bombarded her with questions she did not know the answer to. He really hadn't been kidding when he had said he had given her some extracurricular material for her to read.

During potions class Draco Malfoy and his friends had been making means jokes at her. When Nel snapped back, she interrupted Snape's lesson which had her landed in detention with him. Sometimes she couldn't help but feel like the Potions Master was purposely picking on her.

Pansy Parkinson was that girl with the short black hair that Nel had tricked into drinking toad tea back in the train. She quickly learned that she was a snotty, pureblood fanatic and thought she was better than everybody because her father imported and exported wand making supplies from England to other parts of Europe and Asia. It was also very obvious that she had some type of infatuation with Malfoy. She wasted no time in bombarding Nel with questions over dinner constantly stating the fact that she was brought up in a muggle orphanage and didn't have a single galleon to her name.

Nel stopped next to the black sofa arm were Parkinson was sitting and without even giving her a second glance stretched out an arm and roughly pushed her to the floor.

"Hey!" She protested from the carpeted floor. Nel didn’t even see when Pansy's wand shot out a green flash of light at her back.

" _Slugulus Eructo!_ " She hexed.

Nel felt… funny. Sick was probably a better word for it. Her skin took a sallow complexion and her hands reached to her upset stomach.

The Slytherins leaned in eyed peeled waiting for the spell to take effect.

The girl reeled backwards slightly. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Instead she gave a loud belch and a nasty green slug dripped out of her mouth and to the carpeted floor.

The common room was a laughing riot as she horribly gagged on the slime. Eyes growing watery from the horrible feeling.

Pansy was laughing so hard she was also clutching her stomach. The others followed in suit also cackling madly.

She raised her wand her only weapon and casted the only spell she knew, the one she had learned today. Lumos, but nothing happened. This only made them howl louder.  
Furious, sick, and completely mortified with her eyes watering she considered running out of the room. But she didn't.   
Pansy didn't see it coming. Before she knew it she was pinned to the ground with Nel's weight on top of her. She glued to her hands to her sides. The orphan smiled wickedly as she looked down at Pansy with vile intent.

She had brought this on herself.

"No! No! No!" Pansy cried out pleading, turning her head as far away from her as possible. Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were on the edge of their seats watching from a nearby chess game. Even Theodore Nott had lowered his book and was staring at the scene in disbelief. Other girls in the room looked disgustedly horrified. Daphne Greengrass looked like she was about to faint.

Nel smirked, she could feel a big slimy one coming. She belched several slugs on Pansy. The girl squirmed and shrieked at the slugs that landed on her. Pansy cried as a string of slimy saliva dripped on her. Elowen cackling maliciously before she felt an arm wrap around her neck in a chokehold and attempt to pull her off the girl.

Bullstrode.  
  
Millicent Bullstrode was a large girl who as far as Nel knew, her only positive quality was that she had a cute cat named Hokey. She didn't say or do much, being more of a quiet follower she tailed after Parkinson.

Pansy continued screaming as Nel barfed as many slugs as she could on her, covering her in slime and slugs from head to toe. Millicent pulled with all of her strength until a booming voice interrupted.

"What is the meaning of this?!" One of the Slytherin prefects rushed into the room. She looked angrier than grossed out by the disgusting scene. With a flick of her wand all three girls pulled apart from each other.

The prefect wasn't patient in demanding an explanation. "You two, Snape's office with me now!" She pointed at Bullstrode and Parkinson. "And you…" Her eyes narrowed at the sick girl. "To Madame Pomfrey, now."

Nel vomited a slug and painfully moaned in disgust. Blaise and Draco were still laughing loudly at the scene.

"Malfoy you seem to be enjoying yourself. Escort Saintday to the infirmary," she barked. Her expression absolutely livid. Draco's mocking face immediately dropped. Blaise laughed at his friend and slapped his arm. "Pipe down Zabini unless you want to accompany Malfoy and Saintday for a walk down _slug_ avenue."

The sick girl would've been lying if she said she didn't need Malfoy to ger to the Hospital Wing. Besides Malfoy's protesting and groaning the two made way to the West Lower Floor. Nel stopping to throw up her guts every couple of steps. Her complexion chalky, eyes watery. She made a mental note never to consume jello ever again in her life.

From her peripheral vision she saw Malfoy edging closer to her.

"Stay away from me," she raised a hand to keep him at a distance and glared at him. If he got any closer, she wouldn’t' have a problem projectile vomiting a slug in his direction.

"Hn," He leaned against the wall crossing his arms over his chest. "Suits you. That's what you deserve for making us drink that disgusting tea. _Slugbreath_."

That's it.

True to her word she turned and vomited a slug which landed on his emerald green jumper. "Ugh! Yuck!" He grimaced flicking it off his person.

She smirked in his direction. "Strange how I'm starting to feel better." She brushed past him.

Draco looked at her in disbelief. How was it possible to dislike someone so much in a day?

"Disgusting!" He exclaimed in a whiny breath.

"I know," she shot back with an unladylike groan as a slug nastily rolled down her chin.

"I don't mean the slugs," he wrinkled his nose. "I mean _you_ ," he shot back upset.

She turned to him angrily and grabbed his arms tightly pulling him close getting ready to aim a fat one straight at his face. "Get your filthy _Mudblood_ hands off me!"  
  
"Stop calling me that!" She said angrily still not knowing the severity of the slur he used against her.

A loud gasp made them both snap their heads away from each other’s fronts. They both turned to see a very horrified Madame Pomfrey looking at the two. "Mr. Malfoy! Ms. Saintday! What is the meaning on this?" She scolded. It seemed like she hadn't heard their conversation.

"I was asked to escort Saintday here," Draco pushed Nel's hands from his body. "And now I'm done," he scowled in her direction before stalking off to return to the Slytherin Common Room. She seethed glaring at his retreating back.

"Slugs! And on the first day…" Pomfrey sighed irritate. "Come along dear," She said placing a hand on the girl's shoulder keeping a stoic expression as she puked a couple of slugs out. "On the first day… And I don't even have any Treacle fudge for you."

Pomfrey had a terrible feeling it wouldn't be the first or last time that she found Elowen Saintday on one of her hospital beds. The Matron made the ill girl sit on a bed and gave her a basinet and some bubbly lime beverage to keep the nausea away. She said the hex should pass in a couple of hours and advised Nel to spend the night in the room in case she still felt sick. Sometime later the Matron retreated to her private chamber leaving Nel alone in the spacious room.

She had been holding it together so well but being alone in the austere room. At night. Having no way to contact Lucy or anyone to talk to… Nel hugged the wooden basinet close to her torso more for comfort as she spat another slug out. Tears she had been holding all day slipped down her face from the nausea and mostly from the humiliation of having been spitting slugs out before her housemates. Not only that but her embarrassing faint attempt to strike Parkinson with a pathetic Lumos…

She sniffled, crying, and hiccupping through nasal breaths.

Laughter could be heard from the corridor approaching the entrance of the Hospital Ward. She gasped lightly and furiously wiped away her tears.

The door opened and she saw two figures shushing each other entering the hospital ward. The figures stepped in and they initially did not notice the girl that was sitting on the bed. They basically tiptoed in and began raiding Madame Pomfrey's cabinet taking few things, just enough so that she would not notice.

"Looks like she's out of Treacle fudge," one said to the other.

Weak sniffling filled the dark room and the two boys turned back to look at a pair of dark eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness. They saw a first year Slytherin girl weakly sniffling and hugging what looked like a bucket close to her chest.

The Gryffindors looked at each other for a moment before approaching the edge of the bed.

"I didn't know Slytherins could cry," one of them spoke with particular jest.   
"I didn't know Slytherins had tear ducts at all." The other added.

"I-I'm not crying!" She said defensively feeling her face burning from the embarrassment before a nasty slug made its way out of her throat in a nasty belch. This was mortifying and in front of these two boys…

She looked down avoiding their prying gazes.

"Eat slugs," The one said clicking his tongue, stating the hex she was under. "Rather nasty one," the other spoke.

Looking at them, recognizing the fiery red hair she realized they looked awfully familiar.   
Of course! She'd seen them at King's Cross with Ron and his family. They were probably his older brothers.

"I take it those gits at Slytherin haven't been very welcoming, have they?"

She shook her head slightly, eyes still lowered in shame.

"I deserve it," she spat some slime into the bucket. "I did make them drink that toad tea."

She wasn't expecting them to react so excitedly to that statement. "That was you!" One exclaimed before laughing loudly. "You're the girl Ron told us about!" the other added. "That was bloody brilliant!" They laughed.

"Tell you what," one of the redheads said. "Everybody knows House Slytherin is filled with pompous gits, but anybody that makes Malfoy croak outta be decent." She arched an eyebrow at this. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking George?" One looked at the other with a mischievous look. "Read my mind Fred," The other said with a peculiar glint in his eye. The twins split and both took a side next to the girl. She looked back and forth between them confused. 

"Your wand?" One said. She couldn't tell which one of them was Fred and which one was George. Diving into her pocket she pulled out her wand.

"Alright, we're going to teach you a very illegal spell." One whispered wickedly draping an arm over her shoulders as if he had known her his entire life. The other did the same.  
"Use it wisely. Can't let those gits have the upper hand. Can we?"

"Here's a word of warning, it only works on _fatheads_ ," one of the twins sniggered.

"By the way I'm George," one said pointing a thumb at himself. "And I'm Fred," the other introduced himself. "Just kidding!" They suddenly said in unison before she could introduce herself. And they once again introduced themselves by the others name before laughing at her confused expression.

"Call me Nel."


	6. Chapter 6

It didn't take Nel long to realize that her peers would not warm up to her anytime soon. Her lack of a blood status and the fact that she was a graceless orphan made her untouchable in their eyes.

She could still remember the look on Crabbe and Goyle's faces when she was sorted into Slytherin. The two looked as if they were ready to warmly welcome her to the House with a nice shiner.

Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, also known to Nel as Malfoy's personal bodyguards were rather dull. They never said or did much besides eat and tail after their leader. Honestly, she wasn't sure if either of them actually knew how to read. Both of course, blue blooded lads just like the rest of the lot.

The other girls in her year seemed to go way back to kindergarten. It even sounded like all of their parents seemed to be friends. The girls shunned her out of gossip, gift exchanges and other private gatherings that they had. The fact that she was a Slytherin, and the house tended to have a reputation, made it hard to make friends from other houses.   
There was also the issue that Nel and Pansy seemed to be constantly butting heads, competing or bickering with each other since day one.

Daphne Greengrass was Pansy's right hand. However, their relationship seemed to be unstable with Pansy consistently wanting to one up the witch with backhanded passive aggressive envious jabs at her. Greengrass didn't seem to notice or care, Nel hadn't decided which one. She spent most of her day narcissistically combing and brushing her enviable blonde hair.

The only person in the girl's dormitory that seemed to be decent to her was Tracey Davis. Tracey's father was a Quidditch commentator because of that the girl was obsessed with the Pudlemere United and was often wearing their jerseys. Her mother was a Muggle which made her a Half-Blood and because of that some of the other girls looked down on her too. She talked about Quidditch constantly and even boasted how she would be trying out for it next year.

The first year Slytherin boys were not much different.

Despite the constant company of Crabbe and Goyle it seemed like Malfoy's best friend was a tall boy with dark features named Blaise Zabini. Blaise was charming and had no issue talking himself in or out of any issue. Even when persuading others do to his bidding. Nel could tell he was smart. It was no wonder that Malfoy kept him close to him. He was also terribly proud of his status as a Pureblood. He laughed at most of his best friend's cruel jokes, but tended to be more serious, opting out to simply look down in disgust at others he deemed to be inferior.

The last boy, Theodore Nott, was the quietest of the lot. He seemed to be constantly withdrawn in his own little world and disregarded most around him. No surprise, he was another Pureblood. The curly haired boy usually had his nose buried in a book. Out of the lot he seemed to be the one most indifference to Nel.

And then there was Malfoy…

The thought of him made her blood boil.

Specially after she had learned what the word _Mudblood_ meant. She had asked Tracey one day during breakfast.   
  
_"Who called you that?" She gasped a little with both of her dark eyes shot wide open in shock.  
  
"To your face?" She looked horrified. _

_As if it was that so hard to believe._   
  
The word was casually thrown around the common room with enough frequency that its ominous meaning lingered on the girl's mind.

Nel was presently on her way to Charms, a class that had so far become a favorite of hers. She clumsily walked with several books in her hands staggering on their weight as she pondered on the questions, she would be asking Professor Flitwick.

For somebody who despised reading she had been doing more than enough of it since arriving to Hogwarts. Not only did she have to keep her grades up, she had also learned she had to educate herself and be stronger and smarter than her peers. Specially if she wanted a fair shot at surviving the rest of the school year. It was even harder for her to keep up considering most of the lot came from wizarding families and had been exposed to spell works and magic since a young age.

Malfoy who was walking with his posse of boys watched her from a far. He had been extra bitter as of the late over the fact that Harry Potter had made Gryffindor's Quidditch team and had become the youngest Seeker in a Century. He of course had to take out his anger and frustrations on something - in this case on _someone._

His eyes were glued to her back. Fixed on her horrible haircut.

"Watch this," he smirked at Crabbe and Goyle.

He flicked his wand in her direction. Nel didn't even see it coming. It was almost as if she had tripped on an invisible rope. She let out a loud gasp before taking a nasty spill, the handful of books she had been carrying spilling around her.

She looked at her scraped hands and lightly winced at them. Laughter approached her and then passed her as Malfoy and his friends walked by her the three of them laughing. She felt her head grow hot. Impulsively she reached for a large book and with perfect aim tossed it at the back of his head, hitting his gel helmet making him tilt forward.

"Next time you have the urge to hex me! Do it to my face!" She shouted at him.

"Oh, yeah?" He challenged stepping forward. "What are you going to do about it?" He whipped his wand out advancing towards her.

"Make you regret it, you _fathead_ " Nel rose to her feet, books gathered in her arms. She pulled out her wand and without saying a word hexed him.

Malfoy's head began to grow and inflate like a balloon. He touched it and looked horrified when he realized what was happening. His head swelled up so much his face looked small compared to it. Nel let out a triumphant laugh and turned her wand to Crabbe and Goyle threatening them. The three boys scattered away in panic.

She heard laughter and turned to see Ron bent over with laughter a couple of steps behind her. Harry was next to him sniggering at what he had just seen.

"That's an illegal spell!" Granger stepped forward both her eyebrows turned up in concern. "You could get in serious trouble for that, or worse, expelled!"

Nel huffed humorously and lightly blew on her wand pretending it was a hot gun in one of those Western films she'd watch back at Wool's.

However, Ron shot Granger an irritated look. "Don't listen to her," he stepped forward. "Again, that was bloody brilliant!" He said in awe.

"Thanks," the girl responded as the four of them walked together to Charms class. "Your brothers actually taught it to me."   
She then turned to Potter, "Also, congrats on making the Quidditch team Harry. Youngest Seeker in the Century? That's pretty wicked," she smiled at him.

"Thanks," Harry flashed her an odd look. "Shouldn't you be upset? Slytherin _is_ our rival team."

She shrugged casually. "I don't see any Slytherins around," she smiled charmingly before walking into potions. It was true. Ever since she found out what the word Mudblood meant - not wanting to be associated with such a disgusting ideology Nel had decided to shed her uniform. Opting out from wearing her emerald and silver tie and her green robes.

It seemed like her classmates had just realized that she wasn't in uniform because the Slytherin girls kept making comments about it or asking her why she wasn't wearing her robes which irritated her to no end.

“You’re going to make us lose House Points!” Bullstrode hissed at her, which made Nel roll her eyes.

Today they would be learning a new spell. One that was known to be most effective during dueling.

"Now, can anybody tell me what kind of spell Expelliarmus is?" Flitwick leaned over his podium eyeing the class.

Granger's hand instantly shot up in the air. Several students rolled their eyes at her. She could really be such an insufferable know-it-all sometimes. She was the kind of student that would remind the teacher to grade homework when it seemed like he or she had forgotten to collect it.

Elowen raised her hand for a change. Surprised Flitwick turned to attend the participation from the usually quiet student.

"Expelliarmus is a disarming charm. It's commonly used during duels to make an opponent lose their wand," she explained.

Flitwick seemed pleased. "Think you can demonstrate Ms. Saintday?"

"Uh…" She shifted nervously ready to cast the spell for the first time when Malfoy walked back into the class with a scowl on his normal sized face. She shook her head and returned her attention to the professor. Nodding, she flicked her wand and Flitwick's own wand flew out of his hand.

"Well done Ms. Saintday, 10 points Slytherin."

There were some low cheers on her side of the room. Nel was about to take her seat when the professor realized she wasn't wearing her uniform.

"Something wrong with your uniform Ms. Saintday?" He asked curiously.   
  
"Nope," The girl responded with an innocent smile.

"Then, may I ask why you chose not to wear it?"

The room grew silent expecting her answer. Tracy braced herself already wincing at the anticipated answer. Daphne looked at her oddly.

"Because I will not be associated with a House that prides itself and values bigotry and racism."

* * *

Again, Nel had gotten herself landed in trouble. This time however, she had been sent to the person above Snape. The Headmaster himself.

She was sitting on a sofa chair before the Headmaster's cluttered desk. Her eyes wondered around the cluttered room looking at the many moving portraits on the walls. The mountains of books and artifacts and specially at the phoenix that seemed to be combing its crimson feathers perched on his post. She didn't know it was possible for such a beautiful creature to exist.

She was expecting Dumbledore to come from behind her but the man instead apparated on his desk before her. She flinched at the sudden movement lightly jerking back.

"Ah, Ms. Saintday," he greeted casually. "We haven't chatted since we were at the Three Broomsticks. Have you been adapting well to Hogwarts?"  
  
Funny how he used the word _adapting_. Instead of enjoying. She snorted at his words.

"I've had detention more times I can count and got sent to your office today. How do you think?" She answered rudely with complete lack of regard or respect that came from a lifetime of living under Wool’s thumb.

Dumbledore ignored her crass tone. "I also see you're not wearing your uniform. Any particular reason why?"

He already knew why. Why was he taunting her like this? Trying to tiptoe around her to try and get her to admit it? Suddenly the orphan felt like she was back at Wool's sitting in front of the Matron instead of the Headmaster.

Despite the dancing around the taboo subject he was looking at her with an odd expression on his face. Fascination perhaps? She couldn't quite put her finger on it. It was almost as if he knew something she didn't. As if this was some kind of personal test she had to pass.  
  
"You know why," She crossed her arms over her chest.   
  
"You'd be surprised to know most of Slytherin's students don't share the believes you are so concerned about. Even then, those same believes can stretch beyond house or even status," he explained in a dismissive tone.  


_'And what about those who do?'_ She wanted to ask.   
How could he take this so lightly?

"I can assure you that this institution does not tolerate or support any beliefs relating or pertaining to the discrimination of others," He reassured her. "I do understand that the Slytherin House gets a particular reputation due to the beliefs of the founder of your house, Salazar Slytherin, a name I'm sure you're more than familiar with."  


She starred at him blankly. So? Snape had made her do several parchments on him and the history of Slytherin. _Big deal._   
  
"However, since you've brought it to my attention," he stroked his beard sagely. "Something will be done," he winked at her with what she felt was the charisma that could move others to do his bidding to him.

She knew what Dumbledore was going to do. _Absolutely nothing about it._ She knew what those words meant. She had heard Wool say it plenty of times back at the orphanage.

He smiled at her and pointed his want in her direction. She flinched bracing herself to be jinxed or injured, but instead her green tie appeared and tied itself into a knot on her uniform and her green robe appeared from thin air growing on her arms.

"Sherbet Lemon?" He casually raised a glass bowl that contained a handful of lemon drop candies. Her mouth watered at the sight.   
Manipulative old man, lemon candies were her favorite…

She avoided his gaze before sinking her sticky hand into the bowl and taking a greedy fistful of them. Tongue half sticking out from her lips. She was about to leave when something stopped her before she reached the exit.

"I almost forgot," She returned to the desk. "Sir, I know that communication between Muggles and Wizards, is well, _strained_ for less of a better word… Is there any chance that I can write to my friend Lucy? She's more family, really." She looked at him with hopeful eyes.   
  
"I'm afraid I can't make that exception Elowen. If Ms. Bonilla writes to you, what will stop the other children in Wool’s Orphanage from writing to you as well? The less people that know the better."

She slumped her shoulders in defeat. "However," he continued. "I would recommend you write to Ms. Wool to give your letter to Ms. Bonilla," he said kindly. "Is that all?" He crossed his arms behind his back.

* * *

Nel was taken back when she found Tracey waiting for her outside of Dumbledore's office.   
  
"What happened?" She instantly asked. She looked more concerned than irritated which the orphan thought was odd.

"Nothing," Nel shrugged carelessly swinging her book bag over her shoulder. "Just talked," she said in a dull tone wanting to finish this conversation and just head directly to the owlery to write to Lucy.

"He wasn't angry?" She piped following the girl to the Great Hall. "No," Nel responded. She had a feeling that Tracey was only going to keep bugging her until she got her answers. "Like I said, we just talked. He offered me some candy," she said before popping one of the sherbet lemons into her mouth. "And made me wear my uniform."

They arrived to the Great Hall and sat at the end of the Slytherin table and helped themselves to today’s lunch rotisserie chicken, with rosemary potatoes, green beans and a split pea-soup.

"I thought what you did was brilliant," Tracey said taking a seat next to her classmate. "I wish I was that brave," she confessed.

Nel's eyebrows arched almost to her hair line in surprise.

"Or _stupid_ ," She heard a voice call from the other side.

Both girls turned to face Pansy who was sitting with Greengrass and Bullstrode. "You think just because you mastered _one_ spell, you're better than all of us? That you can go cry to the Headmaster?" Pansy laughed.

Nel really wasn't having it today. She didn't even bother hearing whatever it was Parkinson had left to say.

"Sodd off fathead," She said casting Engorgio Skullus. It didn't take long for her head to begin to swell like a balloon just like Malfoy's had earlier. Students from other houses laughed at the girl's balloon head. Daphne and Millicent looked horrified as they escorted her friend to Madame Pomfrey.  
  
"Make that _two_ spells!"

"Saintday," A familiar nasal voice spoke. Grimacing she turned back to see Snape standing behind her. "Detention…" He grumbled glaring down at her before stalking off.

_Great._

"I thought it was pretty cool."

Neither one of the girls had even noticed that Nott had been sitting in front of them quietly reading a book. He looked up with the smallest of smiles.

The orphan didn't smile back. She gave him an odd look.   
"Aren't you… Like a fanatic too?"

Nott closed his book lightly and put it down. He did a light shrugging motion with his shoulders. "Sort of ridiculous, isn't it?"

Both girls returned his smile. Happy to have found some common ground and a new friend. Perhaps Dumbledore had been right. Maybe not everyone in Slytherin was terrible.

After lunch, for the first time since she arrived to Hogwarts Nel was happy. She was excited to write home and share the good news with her favorite person. She immediately wrote to Wool (Lucy) telling her everything and anything that she could tell her about Hogwarts and apologized for the lack of communication explaining that the school had no phones and was very particular about communications. Which was not a complete lie. 

With that she sent Barberry off with it to London.

* * *

The rest of the school year went as well as it could've gone, especially considering there was a dark wizard out and about seeking to obtain a weapon that was hidden in the school and that their stuttering professor or the Dark Arts turned out to be that dark wizard in disguise.

Nel never received a response a response from Lucy. Not that she was expecting one as her friend didn’t have an owl to respond to her. Who knows maybe Wool was keeping her letters from her. That was precisely the type of emotional torture that the evil woman would play out. The thought made her skin crawl. She prayed that Lucy would forgive her, that she'd understand.

Being a Slytherin wasn’t as unbearable as it had initially been now that Nel had two friends in Slytherin house and even some outside of it.

Much to her surprise she received a letter when the owls were delivering mail the day after swelling up Parkinson's head.

She couldn’t help but smile at the letter.

“Who’d be writing to _you_?” Parkinson asked while trying time catch a glimpse of the contents of the letter.

“Look,” Nel said leaning over, lowering her shoulder so that she could show the contents of the letter to Pansy. The girl peered over her noisily and let out a shout when she saw Nel’s wand poking out of her sleeve.

A spark went off and Pansy’s head once again began to swell up like a large balloon.

_‘Glad to see you’re keeping the fatheads at bay. - F & G’_

She couldn’t help but laugh a little and look up to meet the twin’s eyes from across the table. Some students were laughing at the balloon head in the table. Fred and George smiled proudly at the monster they had created.

"Detention Saintday." Snape muttered as he passed by the table. Whatever, it had totally been worth it. So, what if she had to spend a couple of hours polishing ancient trophies at night.

As previously mentioned, Slytherin was at least bearable now. Of course, it wasn't all daisies and roses but in the least bit it was tolerable.

Now she found the most unbearable part to be just how petty and horrible girls could be for each other. Especially when the other girls would comment on Nel's clothes. Since most of her pajamas consisted on oversized t-shirts and mismatching sweatpants that looked worn.

The majority of her clothing was very _Swiss_ looking considering they all had as many holes as the cheese. She didn't even know how many kids had worn them before her.

The orphan built a thicker skin. She tried to push these insecure thoughts to the back of her head. As much as Nel tried not to be materialistic and let it get to her head, it was hard not to.   
The girl didn't have a single galleon to her name. She looked at all the beautiful things the other Slytherin girls had with green envy. Their pajamas all made out of silk with lovely buttons. Their clothes didn't have holes, lose threads, and weren't washed out, colorless or two sizes bigger than them.

However, the hardest part was watching how blinded they were to their privilege. How they took what they had for granted. She'd watch how they would all mishandle and treat their clothes like rags. Daphne even complained she was sick of having to wear the same thing more than once. Nel’s sticky fingers itched at the thought of taking something from them, it wasn’t like they would miss it. She also considered asking for it when they declared it so "last season" or something amongst those lines, but her pride was too great.

Nel would always be in need of money. Both in this world and the human one. This need awoke a new sense of entrepreneurship in her.

"Oi," She said tossing a crumbled-up paper to the back of Crabbe's head during History of Magic, also known as the most boring Wizarding class. Both him and Goyle turned back to look at her.   
  
Professor Binns was a ghost who had died during teaching, the man had not even realized he had died and simply stood up and continued teaching. Nel wondered how can one know they are not dead?

"Have you two done your transfiguration parchment on the difference between switching, vanishing and conjuring spells?" She asked Tweddle-Dee and Tweddle-Dum.

  
They shook their dumb heads no in unison.

_Of course, they hadn't._

"I could _help_ you with it," She implied. Then realized she'd have to be more concise considering how daft the boys were. "I'll do it for you," she clarified. "A Galleon for every 5 inches."

For somebody that despised reading so much Nel couldn't help but be locked up in the library most days doing Crabbe and Goyle's homework. The two didn't seem to care what grade she landed them as long as they were graded with Acceptable. And both were more than willing to pay.

Eventually she started getting other clients with strange request.   
  
One afternoon two male Ravenclaws approached her.

"You're Saintday.” One stated.  
"You're the girl that writes parchments, right?" The other said both seemed nervous as they fidgeted.

"Perhaps," she drawled out eyeing them curiously. They were Ravenclaws, weren't they supposed to be super smart? What did they need her for? "For the right price…"

"You also know how to turn people's heads into balloons, right?"

She arched her eyebrow at this.

And that's how Nel Saintday became the person you went to whenever you needed a favor done. All transactions were done carefully under the table in the musky corridors of the library to keep everything as anonymous and safe as possible.  
  
Parchment writing, hexing, you name it. Nel would make it happen. However, if you wanted something from Hogsmeade or Zonko's she'd refer her few clients to her associates in mischief the Weasley twins.

It was greatly frustrating seeing Slytherin lose the House Cup at the end of the year. Especially considering they had lost because of Dumbledore's favoritism to Gryffindor and the _special_ attentions he put on Harry Potter. Nel scoffed bitterly. She liked Harry fine, but his special treatment really wasn't fair to others. Maybe she envied him. Like her he was an orphan, but unlike her, he had fame, he had a fortune, he even still had a family. Whereas she had nothing.

Finally returning to London at the end of the term. Nel wasted no time pounding on the orphanage’s door.

"Dear God, have mercy on me," Cordelia said aghast at the return of the girl he saw as the evil incarnate. Nel didn't bother in greeting the Matron. Wasting no time, she pushed past her, leaving her trunk and owl by the entrance as she rushed to the girls’ dormitory.

"Lucy!" She shouted excitedly her voice carrying over the corridors as she ran with a broad wide smile.

Some kids eyed her curiously, others cheered to see she had returned. Nel continued shouting her best friend's name as she poked her head into every room she could find. Her heart was pounding from the excitement.

"Lucy!" She shouted again entering the dormitory. She rushed over to Lucy’s bed and her heart dropped at the sight. She felt a painful jab on her chest. All of Lucy's belongings were missing, there were no photos on the wall, books on the nightstand or shoes underneath the bed.

She was gone.

_End of Year 1_


	7. Chapter 7

1 9 9 2, Sep 1stst

Families, friends and siblings bid goodbye to students who would be starting their term at Hogwarts.

The compartment was quiet, it was also darker than Nel remembered. She sat with her hands being kept busy knitting. A hobby she had picked up since she was seven to entertain herself back at Wool’s. It was fairly time consuming and gave her something to do since she wasn’t allowed to have any art supplies and the hours of watching TV were limited to all orphans.

She still couldn’t shake off the memory of what had happened during this painful holiday. The only redeeming quality about being at Wool’s was that Lucy, probably the person she cared for the most, was there.

_“Where’s Lucy?” She had demanded from a girl that was in the girls’ dormitory. The seven-year-old shrugged. She snapped her head to the side and asked a slightly older girl. “Where’s Bonilla?” She asked again._

_And again, the girl muttered a simple ‘dunno.’_

_Hearing a slight snicker, she turned around, eyes fixed into slits as they landed on Wool’s favorites. Aisha and Alf, two orphans that were always together, and did everything and anything just to be on the Matron’s good graces with complete and absolute disregard to others._

_“Oh? Don’t you know?” Aisha asked complacently. Her thick hair braided over her shoulder. In that moment Nel wanted nothing more than to drag her out of the orphanage by it. She still wore pink just like Wool._

_“Your dear friend didn’t tell you? Didn’t bother writing to you?” Alf added._

_“Bonilla got adopted,” Aisha announced._

_That was a lie if Nel had ever heard one. Adoption was rare. Even more if you were a teenager. Children amongst the ages of one, two and three are the lucky ones, they’ll be in and out of here in a flash. Parents like that you see, their easily moldable to their ideals and virtues, still not hardened by trauma or the ruthless punches of life. After you turn five and stop being cute, your chances decrease more and more with each year. Being twelve, almost thirteen and living here. Nel had no question that she would be stuck living in this hellhole until she turned eighteen._

_When she was a child Nel was kept locked up in the laundry room and prevented from attending the adoption fairs. Wool didn’t want to risk her doing something “done by the devil,” and have her make a teacup accidentally levitate or make butterflies come out from under her sleeves. This trauma scarred her innocence._

_“That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one,” she scoffed not buying their shit for a moment._

_There was no way Lucy, as wonderful as she was, had been adopted. If anything, maybe Wool had gotten out of hand with one of the little ones one day, maybe she had gotten out of hand with her and ran away? It wasn’t uncommon, but why would she leave without telling her?_

_“You best believe it,” Alf said clicking his tongue. “Besides, why would she even want to stay here and put up with you?”  
“She couldn’t wait to get away,” his sidekick commented snidely arms crossing over her chest. _

_“I know you’re lying,” she scowled at him. “Tell me where she it. What did Wool do to her?” She marched forward towards them with threatening steps._

_“Truth hurts, don’t it?” Alf sneered with a malicious scowl._

_She stopped a couple of steps away from them. The expressions on their faces were enough to set the girl’s already boiling blood into a blur of madness. Nel couldn’t remember the last time she had been this angry. She didn’t even realize how mad she was until several loud pops echoed the room and shards of glass began raining down as the ceiling’s lights popped. Several girls scrambled out of the room screaming fearfully with Aisha leading the way._

_“Freakshow,” Alf added._

_She could hear Wool’s steps stomping up the steps as her large body came wobbling thought the door and gaping at the scattered glass.  
She didn’t waste a moment in throwing Nel into her room without dinner and locking her in. The girl was glad she had brought some treats with her. Treats she was going to give to Lucy…_

She snapped out of her thoughts when the compartment door opened. Theodore leaned against the entrance.  
  
“Nel!” He greeted with a smile joining her in the compartment. His curly hair had gotten longer, but his green eyes remained the same. Soulful, insightful, his clothes dark and crisply ironed.

Both had exchanged a handful of letters over the summer and despite the friendship the two had, neither ever crossed the line of inquiring about anything outside of their school lives. Prying into their familiar lives was out of bounds. Nel had only heard rumors that circled the school, but she knew that Nott’s parents had been loyal followers of You-Know-Who, just like had Malfoy’s, Parkinson’s, Crabbe, Goyle and others in the class. She figured some things were better left unsaid.  
  
“What you got there?” He commented dropping opposite of her, raising his feet so that he could comfortably sit across the seat.

“Just trying to keep busy,” she responded mindlessly as she continued to knit a pair of black winter gloves.

“I trust you’re more than halfway ahead of all of our classes already?”

When you’re locked up in a laundry room 24 hours of the day with not much to do you really don’t have much of an alternative to preserve your sanity.  
  
“I have a business to tun Nott,” she hid her anguish and smiled before whipping out a handful of hard-earned galleons most courtesy of Misters Crabbe and Goyle. “Pumpkin pastries on me today!” She beamed at him.

Again the compartment’s door opened and much to her distaste Draco Malfoy stepped in.

“Nott,” He acknowledged, and his silver eyes turned to seethe at Elowen who was staring back at him with contempt. Let’s just say things hadn’t gone well when the two had a recent tun in at Flourish and Blotts.  
  


“"I'm sure you can find better company that Saintday," Malfoy coughed. Looking between the two aghast at the friendship.

_The twelve-year-old dark-haired girl was wondering inside of the shop scanning over the countless of book covers, titles and authors. She didn’t want to get any more books than what was required of the curriculum. Her brain was already more than fried from all of those exhaustive readings. It seemed like she had picked the wrong day to come to Diagon Alley since the bookshop was overcrowded with a famous Wizard that was doing a book signing. Not that she paid much attention to that._

_Presently she walked around with a stack of books in her arms. This time she was alone. Seeing as Professor Snape had already showed her the ropes and string of Diagon Alley she did not require to be escorted. Not that she minded, it was almost better like this._

_Another twelve-year-old also happened to be in Flourish and Blotts. The bitter blonde was a couple of steps away on a balcony watching the girl with his eyes narrowed. He saw how she was taking her sweet time browsing the large stack that was on the shelf._

_He looked down at the book he was reading and ripped off a page simply because he felt like it and folded it away. He walked down the short steps of the balcony and approached the Slytherin girl he had been carefully observing. She didn’t seem to have noticed his presence yet and if she did, she chose not to acknowledge it. Her hair was longer than the year before now reaching her shoulders and there was a distant look in her dark eyes. Of course, not that, that would’ve stopped him from acting like a total dick._

_He forcefully ran into her on purpose. The impact so strong the tower of books she had been holding came tumbling down to the wood floor. He grabbed her lower arm before she could fall holding her up._

_“Watch where you’re going Saintday,” He greeted her with a terribly rude scoff._

_“Maybe you should watch where you’re going Malfoy,” she snapped back irate quickly withdrawing her arm back to her person. She groaned at the unwelcome presence and bent down to reach for her books when she saw his brand designer shoe stomp on them._

_“Get your foot off my books, because Merlin help you if you don’t, I will gladly sock you,” she threatened with an angry scowl._

_He huffed a weak chuckle. ‘Physical threats. How typical of Saintday,’ he thought to himself humorously. Not that he was unaware that the orphan would deliver on her promise. Instead, he stood unbothered and leaned against the bookshelf next to him with his arms crossed over his chest._

_“Hm.. No, I don’t think I will. You see, I don’t really feel like it,” he hummed calmly while pretending to look at some invisible dirt underneath his fingernails._

_Nel seetehed in her anger. Great. Now her day had been ruined.  
  
“What do you want Malfoy? Don’t you have anything better to do like hold your moms hand or something?”_

_“Jealous?” He was quick to respond. “At least I have one,” he shot back sharply.  
  
“Oh, boo-hoo,” she cried out the words mockingly, dripping with sarcasm. “Thank you for stating the obvious. Insulting an orphan on not having a family? That only makes you an even bigger prick!” She exclaimed. “Now move, before I make you,” she raised her want at his nose. _

_“Watch it slugbreath,” he did not move an inch, yet there was some hesitation in his voice divulging he was intimidated._

_Nel suddenly stopped. She froze when she felt what felt like a harsh tap come down on her shoulder. She was familiar with this sensation. She turned slightly to see the shimmering silver snake head from Lucius Malfoy’s cane. It felt just as bad even worse than Old Man Cowell’s down by the General Store.  
  
“Mind your manners Draco. That is not way to speak to a lady,” a slithering voice spoke from behind her. The voice cold and emotionless holding a scolding edge. Without any hesitation whatso ever Draco finally stepped back and off her books. _

_Nel turned in surprise to see_ Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, standing behind her. The man stood tall and was a refined contrast to the other witches and wizards in the room. His snake cane once again reached for her face and he brushed the stray bangs out of her face to get a better glance at the beauty marks that dotted her face.

“We meet again Ms. Saintday,” he said darkly. "I trust your studies are going well?" He pulled out his wand from his cane and with a flick all of her books neatly arranged in a tower back into her hands.  
  
She remained silent eyeing the man with suspicious. Draco appeared to be just as confused as to why his father was being so damn polite and to a Muggle-born witch out of all people. Why was Lucius Malfoy, one of the biggest muggle haters of all time, the man that had probably taught Draco the filthy slur of Mudblood and all of his hating virtues, being so damn polite? After all, racism was a learned behaviour. So why be so kind?

“Thanks,” she responded curly in a dry tone and witch much unease looking down at the stack of books.

"Draco's told me all about you,” Malfoy Sr. began. “He says you're quite the accomplished witch."

_What?_

_Her expression shifted into one of pure shock. Eyes quickly darting to pale boy who was presently scarlet in the face. A more than irritated expression on his eyes as he shot his father a silencing glare._

_“Also heard you have a knack for mischief. Particularly for head swelling spells…”_

_Boy, wouldn’t she like to swell his head right now.  
  
“I have to do well in order to keep my scholarship." She answered dully, disregarding his praises or mention of the head swelling hex. No way she was apologizing to daddy dearest over that. "And may I ask what you intend on doing after finish your studies?"  
_

_Why was he asking her so many questions?  
Why was he so invested in this topic of conversation?  
  
_

_She was twelve, soon to be thirteen in November. How on Earth was she supposed to know what she wanted to do the rest of her life._

_"For now, I just want to make my own living in the world."_

_Which was a normal ambition for anyone. Getting out of Wool’s. Being able to afford decent clothing that wasn’t washed away, eaten by moths or destroyed by former owners. Beautiful things. Being able to treat her friends and loved ones to lovely things like ice cream and pastries…  
It was not an impossible dream.  
  
_

_"Of course. How ambitious of you." He paused for a moment and looked at her. Simply starred at her face. His intense glare made Nel shrink slightly. She had never been so uncomfortable when interacting with an adult.  
"We best be moving on," He turned his eyes to his son instructing him to follow. _

_"Wait Mr. Malfoy," Nel paused seeing something on top of her pile of books. "This isn't mine," she said handing out the small black book to him. "I've got more than enough reading to do. Don't need any more books to sit gathering dust in my dormitory," she said sheepishly. Malfoy Sr. Looked at the black book and then back to her before taking it in his hand and turning away without another word._

_"I never said that!" Malfoy growled out at her leaning in closer wearing a scowl. His face angry. Elowen smirked at him.  
"Sure Malfoy." She said haughtily. _

"Hmm…" Nel hummed an evil smirk growing on her face. "You know some people would describe me as being a terribly charming witch, others might even say, _accomplished_." She dangled his father’s words in his face, subtley taunting him. 

Again, Malfoy's ears turned red with embarrassment.

"My father only said that out of pity! What else was he supposed to say to a pitiful, _filthy,_ Muggle-born orphan!" He shouted angrily before storming out of the compartment.

She highly doubted that Lucius Malfoy was a man running a charity of compliments to give to strange second years at bookstores.  
There was an underlying motive to his words. A secret he was hiding. Something even Draco didn’t know.

Theodore let out a small chuckle and brought his watch up to his face taking note of the time. "And… it begins," he laughed. "Merlin, we're not even there yet and you and Malfoy are already at each other's throats."

"He started it," She shrugged. "You saw!" She said incredulously meeting his green judging gaze.

"It's weird, I feel like he has a strange fixation on you… Sometimes it's almost like he goes out of his way just to bug you." Nott shook his head.

"Of course, he's got some strange fixation. I'm the _only_ Muggle-born Slytherin as far as I know." Nel rolled her eyes. "He'd be just as bad if Granger had been sorted into Slytherin."

"But you're not," Theodore interjected. She arched an eyebrow in confusion. "Muggle-born, I mean." He closed the book he had initially opened to read and lowered his feet, so he was sitting up straight.  
"You don't know that. You don't know who your parents were."

"Are," She corrected icily in a strained voice. This was crossing on the boundary the two had outspokenly agreed never to cross which meant family or life outside of Hogwarts was outside of the bounds of conversation. "I also don't know if they're with life or not. For all that I know they abandoned me at a Muggle orphanage. When they could've left me anywhere else in this bloody damn world. I would've preferred to be left at Gringotts for all I care!" She didn't realize that her voice pitch had raised into an upset tone. Her eyes darkening as she shed a ray of light into her life and harbored resentment due to her abandonment.

Her parents had abandoned her, like it or not. Whatever had or hadn't happened to them. And Lucy… Wool had insisted that she had gotten adopted and refused to give Nel her new address claiming it was confidential information; Wool said that if Lucy wanted, she would’ve returned for Nel, even written to her. Even Lucy had abandoned her... Which almost stung more than her own parent's going amiss. Perhaps Aisha and Alf really were right. Maybe Lucy didn't want to be stuck with a _freak_ like her. A freak that set rooms on fire when upset, that made light fixtures explode and bathrooms pipes burst and floor. She felt her eyes water and turned away from Nott. The emotional wound still fresh. She didn't apologize for her outburst.

Nott looked at her upset expression. At the pain behind her eyes and in that moment he knew. He knew that no matter how many hits life threw at her. How many punches and jabs others threw at her. She wasn't made of steel, she was wounded, every jab digging deeper and deeper. He was about to speak when the compartment's door was thrown open.

"Well if it isn't Nelly and Teddy!" Tracey tossed it open and put her trunk away before jumping on the seat next to Nel. She gave her a side hug. The interruption seemed to be enough for her to snap out of her dark thoughts.

"Salazar," Theodore grimaced, "I beg you, please _do not_ start calling us that."

"What should we call you then?" Nel grinned at her friend despite the great distaste for the nickname. It was refreshing being back with her little Hogwarts family. With people she actually cared about.

* * *

Arriving at Hogwarts second years don't take the boats to cross the lake to the castle. Instead they ride in enchanted carriages that take them across the road and up to the school.

Nel almost fell back when she saw the creatures that were pulling the carriages. She made a sound. Animals generally did not like her, and mutually she did not like them.

"What is it?" Tracey asked confused trying to see what was making her friend so upset.

"What are those?" Nel asked fearfully not removing her eyes from the large winged horses. Their gaunt bodies seemed to be skeletal almost ghostly with reptilian features, their skin leathery and worn and with massive wings that resembled a bat's or some nocturnal monster straight from your nightmares. Their eyes resembling foggy crystal balls.

"Nel, what are you talking about?" Tracey squinted really trying to see what the big deal was yet saw nothing. Hesitantly they approached the carriage and the three of them took a seat. They were joined by three Hufflepuffs who seemed too absorbed discussing which Quidditch team was better if the Holyhead Harpies or the Appleby Arrows.

Of course, Tracey felt the need to weight in her two cents and defend that Puddlemere United was the best of the best.

"You can see them too?" She turned to see Theodore with surprise. Tracey was much too distracted to listen in their conversation.

"They can't see them, can they?" She noticed the blank looks on the students around them and in the other carriages.

"Am.. Am I going mad?"

"No," Theodore explained. "They're Therstals, I've read about them." He licked his lips, his eyes forward expression turned into a solemn one.

"Only people who've witnessed death can see them."

Her jaw went slack at the information.

"So…" She egg shelled on that topic they never spoke about, their home lives. "You've seen someone die?"

He nodded grimly, pondering deep in his painful memories. "My mom, when I was five," he said. A dull expression on his eyes. She didn’t want to pry further.

"But…” She paused taking in a deep frustrating breath. “How can that be? I've never seen anyone die."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hey you! Thank you for tunning in. So, any theories on why Nel can see the Therstals? On what happened to Lucy?  
>  It’s been a slow story so far, but I’ve written a couple of chapters ahead. This year will be short, and I just wrote out first Draco x OC moment! 
> 
> (Also a new romantic protagonist will be introduced soon ;) )


	8. Chapter 8

“I can finally try out for Quidditch and you best bet I’m going to be Slytherin’s best Keeper!” Tracey announced to the Slytherin table determinedly. Eyes gleaming if there was anybody that ate, breathed and just thrived on Quidditch - besides that Gryffindor Oliver Wood - it was Tracey.

“You’re totally going to make it Trace, we believe in you!” Her friends said to her encouragingly pumping her up.  
  
"Yes, two you need to come work out with me in the mornings, so that I can get faster and stronger!" 

This made both Nel and Theodore cringe. Waking up at dawn to run around the lake. _Pass_. That did not sound like a good time.

“Yes, you need to come work out with me so that I can get faster and stronger!”

“You’re not going to make it," a shrill voice interrupted. "The Slytherin team is boys only, _everybody_ knows that,” an irritable voice spoke from a couple of seats next to them. Somebody that had obviously been eavesdropping. Three pairs of glaring eyes turned back to face Pansy Parkinson. Someone that Nel had definitely not missed. 

"That's not written anywhere in parchment," Tracey shot back.   
  
"So?" Elowen butted "If anything that's just another glass ceiling to break."   
  
Davis gave her friend a thankful smile. Having been shut up. Parkinson leered at her with a scrunched-up nose of disgust when she looked down at Saintday's uniform.   
  
"Is that last year's uniform?" She chortled looking at the Slytherin uniform that still looked brand new after just a year or use.

"Is that last year's overbite?" Nel bit back ruthlessly. Even making Daphne Greengrass snort into her chalice almost spilling out her pumpkin juice. Parkinson scowled and turned away pretending to be more interested in whatever some third-years next to her were talking about. 

With a little smirk Nel chewed on her turkey thoughtfully making a mental note to buy some dung bombs and belch powder from the Weasley twins to torture Parkinson this year. Maybe even a biting teacup would do the trick.

"I know _I'm_ going to make the Slytherin team," a cocky voice butted. Nel didn't even bother turning around to face Malfoy. "After all, I have been flying for years. It's only expected that _I_ become the youngest Seeker in Slytherin's history," Draco boasted from a couple of seats ago. Like Pansy it appeared he had been eavesdropping on the conversation. Not that anyone blamed him, it was probably more interesting than anything Crabbe or Goyle had to say. 

Tracey rolled her eyes slightly, Theodore let out what looked like a humorous huff, yet no one acknowledged him. Maybe if they just ignored him he'd go away. 

"I'll be at the try outs to cheer you on Draco!" Pansy piped in a dreamy tone. 

He didn't seem to hear or care for anything she had to say. 

"What do you think of that _Saint-Nel_?"  
  
"My name's _Saintday_ , not _Saint-Nel._ Malfoy," she turned irritated. The grip on her fork becoming tighter. "Also, only my friends can call me Nel. So don't let me hear my name coming from your filthy mouth!"  
  
His gray eyes fixed on her upset expression. He didn't have a good reason for wanting to provoke her other than looking cool in front of the Quidditch team.

"Does it matter?" He scoffed. "It's not even a real name." 

Scattered hooting and sniggering surrounded him. Parkinson laughing the loudest. The grip on Nel's utensils becoming tighter. She wanted nothing more than to stab him with her fork. Maybe throw the dull knife at him but he was too far from her reach.   
  
"Yeah, _Kennel Nel."_  
  
 _"Lonelily Nel."  
  
"Snelly Nelly." _

The third year Slytherin Quidditch players that were sitting around him all chided in. Each one of them laughing harder and louder at the horrible moniker they baptized her with. 

Elowen remained silent, her jaw clenched tightly, face twisted into an angry expression, hands gripping her utensils tightly. Internally her temper was boiling and like a steaming teapot she was about to blow.

Greengrass's blue eyes darted from one side of the table to the other at the increasingly growing tension in the Slytherin table. Davis wanted to tell Nel to not let them get to her and to calm down but knew that it would be in vain. Nott braced himself for what was coming. 

They didn't even see what hit them. The bullies were splashed by a colorful wave of flavors. One by one the large turkeys, the cherry pies, the cranberry sauces, gravy, apples, mashed potatoes, and chocolate fudge on the table exploded covering them in food from head to toe. Nobody moved, nobody said anything. Daphne looked like she was about to die her hair covered with chunks of fudge and mashed apple puree. Zabini sat completely still marinating in his anger as a string of pudding slid down his temple. Marcus Flint wiped some cranberry sauce off his eyes. Pansy and Millicent's jaws dropped as they sat still in shock. Draco wiped his face clean of any stuffing and licked the cherry pie filling off his lips. If anything, Crabbe and Goyle were the only ones that didn't seem to mind. 

Mouths agape from the shock, it didn't take long for the rest of the Slytherin table and other students who had witnessed the explosion to burst out in loud laughter.

Immediately Nel shrunk her shoulders not because of guilt but because of the triggering anxiety that came whenever she accidentally destroyed something. This was the kind of thing that would get her locked up in the laundry room and punished back at Wool's. 

"Malfoy, Saintday," Snape came sweeping down like the giant bat he was. An irritated expression on his face. First day of school and those two were already a headache. He had a feeling this would be a reappearing occurrence every first day of school "My office, now," he growled out in an irritated nasal drawl. He already had to deal with Potter and Weasley's flying car incident.

"This is all your fault," Malfoy glared as the two walked behind Snape trailing behind him to his office next to the potion's classroom.   
  
Her face mirrored his. She considered correcting that this had actually all been _his_ fault.   
  
"You've got a cherry on your eyebrow," she smirked satisfied with the accidental damage she had done.

She wasn't sure if his ears turned red from the anger or if it they were that color because of the pie that stained most his pale features. He reached for it with a scowl and wiped it off. He paused and looked at his red hand pondering. Nel had her eyes fixed on the back of Snape's head as she wondered just what punishment he had in mind. She had a feeling that he'd evolve her punishment of cleaning cauldrons to something worse.   
She felt something warm on her face and cringed when she realized it was Malfoy’s hand smearing blended food contents that had been on his person on her face.

"Ugh!" She wiped it off. "Don't touch me!" She flickered them towards him. He didn't listen. Instead he wiped his hands on her robe dirtying it. "Quit it!" She scowled before elbowing him and trying to push him away.

The two children bickered loudly, elbowing and pulling at each other's hair. Making Snape's patience go from thin to nonexistent. 

He turned and flicked his wand in between them making them be thrown apart. "I have had it with you two!" He snapped. "Both of you will polish every trophy in the trophy room until you lose all sensation and feeling in your hands. I'm sure Filch will be happy when he's through with the two of you."

"But Professor-!" Draco complained. 

"Silencio!" Snape shushed him with the silencing spell. His lips moved but his whinny voice did not come out much to Saintday’s amusement. Her satisfied leer twitched up in pleasure.

"Don't look so smug Saintday, you are walking a very thin tightrope," the professor threatened. Before opening the door to his office. 

"Professor Snape, sir?" Nel paused thinking over what she had wanted to ask Snape earlier in the day. His threat going completely over her head. Wool had threatened her more times that she could count back at the orphanage. He really had to step up his game if he wanted to intimidate her. He walked around his desk not bothering to stop or acknowledge her. 

"What are therstals?"

He froze and raised his head to look at her with what seemed to be an odd fascination. It almost seemed as if something had clicked in his mind.

"I-I can see them," she admitted. Her voice's pitch dropping as her voice was coated with an edge of fear. 

There was something about being able to see these creatures that didn't sit well with her. Specially since she had never seen anyone die…  
  
 _"Maybe you just don't remember," Theodore had suggested when they were still in the carriage._

_She turned to look for Harry, if there was anybody else that could see them and not remember it would be him. However, Harry was nowhere to be seen, neither was Ron.  
  
_ Snape flickered his wand removing the Silencio charm and dismissed Malfoy who shot the girl one last glare before exiting the room. 

"Why, sir?" She asked once again taking a seat before his office desk.   
  
"I don't think it’s a coincidence that you can see them and that your own wand has been crafted from the heartstring of one of those filthy creatures," Snape began. "The only factual reassurance I can give you is that this is not a good omen Elowen." He was quiet for a moment gathering his thoughts. It seemed like he was about to continue when Filch barged into the office holding Harry and Ron by the arms tossing them in interrupting their conversation. 

Snape gave her a knowing look before dismissing her. 

They would continue this conversation later. 

* * *

Snape never got back to her. 

Eventually things for Nel only got worse. She eventually started hearing voices at night. Loud voices that only she seemed to hear that told her to kill. 

Tracey didn’t make the Slytherin Quidditch team and she found Malfoy taunting her in the Slytherin Common room. The only reason the insufferable prick had even gotten into the team was because his dad bought his way in for him.   
  
“No congratulations?” He called from his seating. Why did he insist on interacting with her?

“Quit gloating Malfoy,” she glared as they crossed the room. 

“Don’t worry Davis, the Slytherin Team needs cheerleaders too,” he chortled making the Quidditch players around him laugh.   
  
Nel let go of her friend and fished something out of her pocket.  
  
“I can’t wait to see you get your ass handed to you in the pitch Malfoy,” she threatened. Stepping forward she looked down at all the Slytherin Quidditch players. “Tracey,” she said to her friend without turning to face her. “Run!” She shouted before popping a dungbomb in their direction releasing the putrid smell to odor the common room. 

Stunned Davis didn’t react until her friend pulled her out by the hand laughing and running out of the room.

* * *

The day before her birthday something awful happened.   
  
Birthdays weren’t usually a big deal at the orphanage. Before Lucy would usually sneak off and get her a cupcake. Nel would usually go to the general store and guilt trip the old man into giving her a candy bar despite the many times she had brought trouble to him. He always said no and kicked her out. 

Wool would simply announce it with bitterness during dinner. Some of the kids at the home that owed her favors would usually write cards or give her little details whether it be coins, candy and once a ribbon. 

“I’m not big on birthdays,” she shrugged. “I’d be happy with a day off”  
  
 _Or for Malfoy to stop pulling on my hair while we’re in Charms class._   
Seriously he was so irritating.

“But you must want something,” Tracey insisted. 

Definitely. There were more than a thousand things that she wanted, that she’d never have.

“Maybe a nap? She laughed. Business had been going well as of the lately which kept her more than occupied writing parchments for Crabbe, Goyle and other students well into the night.

Suddenly hearing the killing voice again Nel excused herself and returned to the dormitory feeling sick. 

“What’s wrong Saintday? Run out of clever responses?” Malfoy taunted after he had probably interrupted their conversation to butt in with something terribly obnoxious.   
  
“Nel?” Nott shook her shoulder lightly. 

“It’s nothing...” She said more to herself a lost look on her face. “I have to go,” she said returning to the dormitory and burying her head under a pillow trying to mellow the voice out. The next day she found out that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened and that all Mudblood students in the castle had been threatened to be killed by the Heir of Slytherin. 

Being of questionable descent she was on edge living in fear like other students that the Heir of Slytherin would come for her. After setting a bomb off in the common room, making everyone’s meals explode on their faces and refusing to wear the uniform she wasn’t making herself any favors with her peers. 

Things only took a turn for the worse when she realized she could talk to snakes during an unfortunate encounter with one during Herbology.   
  


Students looked horrified and marveled at her as she spoke to a snake that had been hiding behind a Mandrake pot in class seeking refuge from the December cold. She hadn't even realized what she had done until she was confronted by it back in the Slytherin common room.

_"You're a Parselmouth?"_ Malfoy asked surprised.  
  
The entire Slytherin House seemed to be gathered in the sofas to ogle her some with a newfound respect, almost with admiration others with contempt.

"A what?" She stopped in her tracks when she realized all eyes were on her. 

"You speak Parseltongue, the language of serpents" Nott answered for her bearing a grim expression on his face. Even Tracey looked disturbed.

"Yeah?" She answered absentmindedly. "I've always been able to do it. Sometimes they come to me, whisper things," she answered with that same tone of indifference. Didn’t a lot of Wizards speak to snakes?

The students whispered amongst each gravely flashing her wide-eyed looks.

"What? Can't you?" She tossed at no one in particular before trying to make way upstairs to the dormitory.

"No," Daphne answered softly. "Nobody can," Her eyes scanned the room. "Nobody except," her brows furrowed up in what seemed to be distress. "Salazar Slytherin and his descendants."

_No._

The murmuring got louder in the room.

"That's impossible," She laughed uneasily, almost dryly. "He lived hundreds of years ago," she said recalling that parchment that Snape had made her write last year. "But his last descendant didn't." Zabini added. _"You-Know-Who."_

Nel left the room. Heart pounding against her chest. She felt nauseous. So nauseous she went into a restroom in the corridor outside of the Great Hall to find some peace. She almost felt faint. It couldn't be true. She denied it but the thought lingered in the back of her mind. It made sense now, the reason why the hat had not hesitated in sorting her into Slytherin last year. If she was a descendant of Slytherin himself that meant that Vold- It meant that, that dark wizard, _could_ be related to her. The thought of him potentially being her father was enough to make her retch. 

The shock was so much that she developed a terrible fever. When Snape found her in the restroom, he didn’t hesitate in sending her to Madame Pomfrey for rest. 

She awoke one afternoon from a feverish dream and opened her blurry vision and saw a white blur next to her bed. Blinking twice she groaned and rubbed her vision only to see Malfoy crouching next to her bed. He appeared to be fidgeting with something on her bedside table. 

What kind of horrible nightmare was this?

"Malfoy?" She spoke hoarsely.

Malfoy looked as if he had been caught red handed in a terrible act. She couldn't help but see his slimy hands holding a box of Lemon pastries next to her bed. 

"Are you _stealing_ my gifts?" She glowered, immediately sitting up. His face pink as he dropped whatever he had been holding and stood up to look at her. It looked as if he hadn't been expected to be caught visiting in the infirmary.

"As if I'd steal! And _from you,_ out of all people!" He scoffed at the accusation recuperating from the embarrassment.

Her eyes wondered to candies and cards that were next to her bed. There was even a bouquet of yellow daisies.

_'They're scared of me…'_ She thought to herself with a terrible gut wretched feeling. Why else would so many people even bother sending her get better cards and all of those nice details?  
  
She rubbed her tired face and looked at the countless of gifts. It was probably more than she had ever had in her life. 

"Most of them are from your clients," Draco answered seeing as her attention was focused on the items next to her bed. "Some are from Davis, Nott and others." 

"Took your sweet time looking through my stuff, didn't you? You little weasel." She narrowed her eyes at him at the invasion of privacy. Again, he flushed looking irritated. "If you're not here to steal my stuff, to what do I owe the honor of being graced with your visit?" She shot sarcastically. 

"Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t come to visit you. I came to ask you something," He said defensively crossing his arms over his chest, turning away from her. 

It sounded like a lie. _And it couldn’t wait?_

"Spit it out." She demanded impatiently. 

He hummed for a moment. Thinking over the question, crafting his very unclever lie. 

"Are you it?" 

"Am I what?" She arched an eyebrow.

"The Heir of Slytherin?" He asked bluntly. 

"Why, you want to put in a request?" She laughed weakly. He did not seem amused by her joke.

"Are you?" He asked again, this time more seriously. "No, and if I was, I wouldn't tell _you_ ," she glowered. "Why do you even want to know? So, you can be the first one to go and tell all of your little friends you found out who it was? So, you can volunteer to take out muggle-born witches and wizards?" She scoffed. "I'm sure it'd be your wet dream."   
  
He stood next to her bed dumb struck unsure of what to say next. He looked conflicted. Torn between two emotions. 

"You really think I would do something so despicable?" 

She looked around warily at some of the other students that had been petrified. Even Filches cat for Merlin's sake. 

"No," He admitted. "Even you lived in fear of the Heir of Slytherin didn't you?" 

She flinched a little. He was right, she had been anxiously fidgeting around the castle this whole year living in fear that something horrid might happen to her. 

"Consider yourself lucky," he hummed casually alluding to the fact that she was now no longer considered a _mudblood_ as she had heard the horrible slur being tossed around the common room carelessly. One that once even earned Malfoy a ounch to the nose when he called someone in front of Nel a mudblood. 

"Wait," She paused narrowing her eyes. Why was he _really_ here?   
Oh, she knew what she wanted now. "You're not here to ask me questions," She glared. 

He looked caught.

"You're here because you want to collect me as your friend. You want to be friends with Salazar Slytherin's descendant." She felt her blood boiling in anger. After years of taunting and insulting each other, he stretched out an olive branch now? Out of all times. The weasel was using this for _his_ convenience not hers. 

He was about to protest her accusation before she kicked him out.  
  
"Get out of my sight Malfoy!" She shouted at him. "I don't want to see you here and I will not be a part of your menagerie of idiots you call friends!"

"Fine!" He started to walk away. "But you know what?" he returned to her bed. "This is even worse than being a mudblood, this makes you a _blood traitor_ ," he said lowly before retreating. 

He scowled at her before retreating. On the way out he bumped into Harry, Ron and Hermione who were walking in. The three shared a tense moment of eye contact with him as they made way to visit the Slytherin girl. 

"I know why you're here," she said bitterly. "And no, I'm not the one doing all of these atrocious things."   
  
"That's not why we're here," Harry said taking a seat next to her bed.   
"We sent you flowers, heard you've been very ill," Hermione said kindly pointing to the yellow daisies that were on her nightstand.   
"We know you didn't do it," Ron added reassuringly. 

"Do you know?" She arched an eyebrow her mischievous nature taking over. Testing them. She had a feeling this was exactly the reason why they were here. 

"You couldn't have having realized you're not muggle-born recently" Hermione added. Her analysis was correct as expected. 

"Then why are you here?" She demanded getting to the point. Her social battery having been drained by Malfoy. 

"We wanted to see if you could tell us anything about the heir of Slytherin?" Granger added.   


"I'm afraid I know as much as you do," She wrinkled her nose.

"Is it Malfoy?" Harry asked. 

She couldn't help but let out an obnoxious snort. "Draco Malfoy, Heir of Slytherin, please," she rolled her eyes dramatically. "If Draco was the heir of Slytherin you would've known by now. He would've obnoxiously boasted it in some dramatic gesture and what not." 

"Is petrifying students not dramatic enough?" Ron butted incredulously. 

Nel rolled her eyes. "Trust me, it's not him. It's not me. I've also wondered. Kept a close eye on my house, haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary."

Not that she noticed but Hermione plucked a hair off her clothes casually. The girl thought nothing about it at the moment.   
  


That had been it for the better half of her second year. The year in which she found the first clue to the mystery behind just who her parents were or could've been. For one, one of them had probably been a witch or a wizard. Second this individual had been a descendant of Salazar Slytherin meaning the person was probably a student at Hogwarts at some point and had most likely been sorted into Slytherin. 

This piked her curiosity and she wondered just who the person could've been. Why she had been left alone. Why she had been abandoned during that Halloween night all those years ago?

_End of Year 2_


	9. Chapter 9

1 9 9 3

Holiday at Wool’s was exactly what one could expect.

Being locked up in the laundry room in complete isolation without the exception of Barberry, the owl that kept Nel company and allowed her to exchange letters with her few friends, and her magic books which kept her entertained and helped her pass the time. Any other year Lucy would’ve snuck her out or snuck in some pastries or anything to bring a little bit of light into the now fourteen-year old’s life, but that had been years ago. It had been two years since she had last seen or heard from her friend Lucy and wherever she was Nel hoped she was okay.

Her third year started pretty much the same as the last two. She started getting off the wrong feet with Malfoy which by now was a very irritating tradition. This was also the year that Sirius Black, a mass murdered, had managed to escape from the Prison of Azkaban.

She fainted in the train when dementors attacked and made Tracey and Theodore swear not to tell anyone. As far as she knew nobody else knew. Instead rumors that Harry Potter had fainted spread like wildfire as well. Earning him taunts from Malfoy and the other Slytherins during Study of Magical Creatures. A class Nel did not like in the least due to the distaste most animals had for her.

“Shut up you insufferable lot,” To everyone’s surprise she defended Harry to the taunts of the Slytherin boys.

Harry was- well they weren't particularly friends, but they were friendly acquaintances. Even having spent a Christmas dinner together with a group last year.

She hadn’t defended him because she wanted to defend Harry, she had done it because to her it was personal. She had also passed out from the Dementors, felt could still remember coldness that they brought with them and the numbing pain flooded her body when the dark creature had come near her.

“ _Oooooh,_ looks like you’ve got a girlfriend Potter,” Draco taunted. Rolling up her sleeves Nel had had enough of him, she was ready to go and take it up with him personally. She had already punched him in the face once she wouldn’t hesitate in doing it twice.

“Don’t,” Harry and Ron had to hold her back.

“What’s wrong Malfoy? Run out of hair gel?” She commented on his new hair do. He had shed his gel helmet and now wore his hair lose, blonde bangs falling carelessly over his face.

He flushed as several other male students laughed at her comment.

* * *

After class Malfoy tailed after as the two headed towards Divination a class Nel hated due to the fact that Professor Trelawny had made a prophecy about her on the first day of class.

_“My child you carry a terrible curse!” She had cried and reached for her face with both hands. “You bear the mark of the serpent-bearer on your face! You undead one!”_

It was all of course, complete nonsense. It simply made her feel self-conscious about the several moles scattered on her face.

She didn't know what Malfoy wanted, but she was a feeling it was going to ruin her day.

“I didn’t know you and Potter had a thing,” He said walking next to her. She hated that he was prying into her personal life, why was it any of his business anyway? She hated the way he said _‘Pottah’_ even more. She considered saying yes just to piss him off.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she retorted dully eyes frozen ahead to the staircase leading to the classroom.

“Of course,” he uttered with disgust. _“Saint Potter and Saint Nel,”_ he gagged. “Makes perfect sense if you ask me. Both of you have so much in common. Parselmouths, Muggle-borns, the fact both of you fainted in the train-“

There was no way on Earth that he could've know that. With her patience running thin she pulled out her wand and pointed it against his face as she cornered him. She hated that she had to look up to him since he had grown so much over the holiday.

“What do you want Malfoy?” She hissed out. “Or are you just bored out of your mind? Aren’t you sick and tired of being at the end of my wand?”

He looked down at the tip of her wand before cooly moving it away from his face.

Whatever it was she was expecting him to say weren't the following words:

“Come to Hogsmeade with me.”

Her expression shifted from one of anger to one of pure confusion. He never ceased to stop surprising her. It was typical of third and fourth years to go on dates to Hogsmeade together with their sweethearts or with their friends to split butterbeers and go to Honeydukes.

She lowered her wand slightly, blinking twice as she processed his words. "Yes," she answered softly.

“Really?” He asked just as shocked that she had actually accepted.

_“Of course, not you git!”_ She said zapping him with a head swelling hex. She turned around huffing not finding his latest trick to be the slightest bit funny.

Over the years Nel had grown more bitter and alone. The cause of this bitterness her isolation back at Wool's orphanage. Her abandonment issues preventing her from allowing anybody that weren't her two friends into her personal life and even then they were kept at an arms distance. She grew to be resentful over the parental figures in her life, specially over whoever her parents were.

Several days passed and Nel was surprised to find a note on her desk during Defense Against the Dark Arts. A class she enjoyed, for the first time they actually had a competent professor.  
Professor Lupin was lecturing about the dangers of grindylows, he had some in a water tank and was signalizing to them as he spoke.  
  
She looked at the note on her desk, it was folded in the shape of a paper crane also known as Draco's trademark. Who woul've thought the bastard was so crafty with his origami?  
She should've just swatted it off her desk but the contents of it were curious to her. She was expecting him to make a joke comparing her apperance to the one of a grindylow but instead the bold word starred back at her:  
  
' _Hogsmead?'  
  
_ She set the note on fire without a second thought. Her answer clear. Lupin raised an eyebrow at her?  
  
"Anything you'd like to share with the class Ms. Saintday?" She shrugged and shook her head. Thankfully Lupin let it go.  
  
Malfoy was insane if he thought she would willingly go with him to Hogsmeade.

Presently, Nel was keeping busy writing one of Crabbe's parchment during History of Magic. Also known as the most boring class ever and the one that Nel would use to catch up on her side gig of writing essays for other students. By now, with little expenses she had amassed what she considered to be a small fortune. One she was saving in case of an emergency. Afterall it wasn’t like she was allowed to go out and spend her money when she was locked up back at Wool’s. Who knows, maybe she'd treat herself to something nice when she visited Hogsmeade for the first time. Professor Bins didn't even seem to either notice or care what was happening in class, sometimes he’d just pass out on his desk which often times lead to a chaotic environment. She felt a hand pull at her shoulder length dark hair and ignored it already knowing who it was.

She ignored the pull, then she felt it again. That tug in the back of her scalp annoyingly commanding her attention.

This year was going to be different. She wasn’t going to spare Malfoy an ounce of attention. She was better than that.

"I know something you don't," She felt a voice singsong behind her ear.

"I could care less about anything you have to say Malfoy," she huffed quickly not removing her hand or eye from the parchment she was currently writing on Animagi. Completely disinterested in the Medieval Witch-hunts that Binns was lecturing about or in whatever Draco had to say. She had a feeling it had to go with his weird obsession to get her to go to Hogsmeade with her.

"Is that so?" She didn't see his expression, but the teen raised an eyebrow. He braced himself waiting for the bomb to drop and savor the bait he was about to dangle in front of her. "It's about your parents."

The only thing Nel knew about her parents was that they had abandoned her in an abbey on October 31st of the year 1981. She had always assumed they were muggle-born until last year when she learned she was a Parselmouth, a dark skill that only the descendants of Salazar Slytherin possessed. She had mixed feeling about them to the day. Sure, as an orphan she was naturally curious, but now she didn’t know if she would be happy or not when she found out who they were. After all being related to You-Know-Who was not a good thing…

Malfoy saw how her hand froze and her back visibly stiffened. She gripped the quill hard as she paused writing the parchment. He didn't stop to wonder just whose essay she was writing this time.

"Yeah, right," He saw her shoulders slightly move up before she scoffed shook her head in denial.

_What would he know about her parents? He had to be bluffing._

Draco sat back on his seat and patiently waited for her to take the bite. After years of observing her behavior he knew just what would make her tick and what wouldn’t. He was sure she'd bite.

A moment later Nel turned around with a visible frown. Her dark eyes meeting his light ones. “What do you know about anything, anyways?” She eyed him warily with mistrust.

She had already trusted him once before and it had not ended well. It was something neither of them seem to speak about or mention. It was something she certainly hadn’t told Nott or Davis, nor she expected him to share with Crabbe, Goyle or Zabini.

"I know who it was,” he said slowly savoring the moment. “The person that left you on the doorstep of the abbey."

He saw her eyes go wide at the revelation. That was confidential information. A little-known fact that only a select number of people knew. How would he know? He probably wouldn't, but his father would. Lucius Malfoy, that odd man that seemed to be unreasonably interested in Elowen's life.

Class was dismissed and Malfoy stood up self-righteously and left his seat walking out of the class with a satisfied smiled.

"Wait!" She called after him. However, he did not stop.

"Wait!" She called again and trotted after him. Catching up to him and reaching for his arm holding him back. He slowed his pace and glanced at her with the edge of his lips turned up.

"How do you know that?"

The arrogant look on his face only stretched wider across his lips. Guess for once sitting in during one of his father’s dull conversations had actually paid off.

"How do you know?" She repeated. Draco remained silent secretly enjoying the attention he was receiving from the hostile girl. "Are you going to tell me?" She asked.

He remained silent, marinating in the moment.

"Tell me please!" She implored him slapping his arm roughly. Still he remained deadly silent simply walking away from her.

"Please!" She pleaded. "I'll give you or do whatever you want," she bartered. Maybe she couldn't buy Malfoy but she could offer her business and services to him.

She saw him come to a halt. Crabbe and Goyle who were walking with him also stopped on their tracks. He raised his hand indicating that he would later meet them at the Great Hall later.

"Anything?" He swaggered towards her, arching an eyebrow. A suggestive smirk on his face.

Her face flushed in unflattering red patches as she looked away from his icy eyes. "Well," She pondered.

Just how far was she willing to go for this vital information?

Also - this was _Malfoy_. Whoever knew if he was being sincere or not. If anything, it was probably a cruel trick he was playing on her.  
Also, Merlin knows just how twisted Draco's imagination could stretch when making his vile demands.

"Would I lie to you?" He said seeing the uncertainty in her face.

"Yes," She said with an incredulous scoff. He most definitely would. In a heartbeat and without hesitation. He was not to be trusted.

"Not about that," He stuck his hands in his pockets. "I wouldn't waste my time with such nonsense," he said self-importantly.

Nel strongly fought the urge to roll her eyes. _His time?_ What did he spend his time doing? Talking Quidditch with Marcus Flint and the other Slytherin boys? Ogling the other Slytherin girls?

"What do you want Malfoy?" She crossed her arms over her chest growing impatient from walking around in circles with the conversation.

He didn't look away from her perturbing gaze. She was looking at him so intensely almost as if she was trying to read his mind.

"I want Parkinson off my back," He said slowly walking towards her. It was no secret that Pansy Parkinson was thirsting over Draco. She had warned all of her chamber mates to back off because she had claimed her ‘ _Drakey’_ as hers. It was disgusting. Even the way she threw herself at him and always attempted to cling off his arm.

Nel was known for having the reputation of being a hustler in the school. You wanted something done you went to her.

Homework _Check._

Test answers _Check._

Wanted to hex someone? _Check._

Slip a love note or potion? _Consider it done._

Of course, her services did not come cheap.

"Consider it done," She clapped her hands together and licked her lips thinking of all the vicious things she could do to Pansy Parkinson. Someone she already despised. She would greatly enjoy this.

"It's different," He clarified almost as if he could read her mind.  


"She won't take no for an answer which is why I need you to come to Hogsmeade with me."

So that’s why he had been so insistent…  
  
Wait-

"What?" She gaped at him. Horrified at the ridiculous request. At what he was implying. He was asking her out on a date? Why couldn't he just tell Parkinson to shove off? She had endured three years of Malfoy's torture, why couldn't he be just as crude to the insufferable girl?

She was still waiting for him to admit it was all a horrid prank, but his expression told her otherwise. He was dead serious. He really did want her to go to Hogsmeade with him. It hadn’t been some kind of trick. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but it hadn't been this.

"Please Saintday, don't flatter yourself," he scoffed at her shaken expression. Again, she felt vulnerable almost as if he could read her mind. "Believe me, I would've preferred asking _anybody_ else, but seeing she already has it out for you - it makes things easier for me," he flashed her his most charming smile.

“Also, we’ve been civil to each other in the past and it wasn’t completely unbearable.”

She shushed him immediately. Not wanting to remember that Christmas Eve the two had spent together during their second year. It wasn't something she liked to remember, much less talk about.

Normally this would've come at a very expensive price for anybody else, but in these circumstances…  
He possessed something she needed. Priceless information about her life. What was one trip to Hogsmeade? Really, what was the worst thing that could happen? She'd get stuck having butterbeers with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle and listening to them talk about this seasons Quidditch. There were worse things happening out in the world right now.

"Fine," She caved adjusting her bag strap.

He stretched out a hand and hesitantly she shook it. She didn't know why she had expected it to be slimy like a reptiles but instead his hand was soft and warm. He definitely had the hands of somebody who had never worked a day in his life.

"You're also to carry my bag and write all my parchments."

"What?" She looked at him incredulously pulling her hand back as if she had been burnt, as if she had just signed a deal with the devil himself. "For how long?"

"Until I feel like it."

"You're not being fair now," She said beginning to walk away.

"Fine," He bartered. "For a month."

"A month?" Her eyebrows went up so far they almost reached her hairline. "Make it a two weeks."

"Three," He pressed.

"One and a trip to Hogsmeade or you've got nothing."

"Deal." They shook hands again finalizing their deal.

He smirked pleased with the transaction. She rolled her eyes and began to walk away.

"Oh, and Saintday," he called after her making her stop and turn to face him. "Most girls would kill to go to Hogsmeade with me," he said pompously.

"I'm sure," She responded her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Who? Besides Parkinson and your mom?"

His eyes widened at the comment.

"Let me know so I can get in line," she flashed him a charming smile before turning away.


	10. Chapter 10

"Malfoy?" Tracey said loudly.

Nel nodded her head bitterly, arms crossed over her chest as the two made way to the dinning hall for dinner.

"Draco Malfoy?" She repeated in her obnoxiously loud voice. It seemed like his name was the only word she was capable of saying because of the shock.

"Shush!" She elbowed her friend. Throwing a suspicious glance around the corridor hoping nobody else had heard.

"And why- are you doing this again?"

"Because he knows something about my past and I'm pretty sure it's true. Trust me I'd much rather write to his father personally and ask or drug him with some veritaserum but even then the potion doesn't guarantee us any answers."

The two sat down on the table and put their bags aside when Theodore came running into the Great Hall and practically slid in the seat across from them.

"You're going to Hogsmeade with MALFOY?!" He exclaimed. He seemed to be out of breath.

Nel's eyes scanned the room. "Wow, news sure does travel fast 'round here," she shook her head.

"Are you okay?" He asked concerned. "Are you ill? Dying?" He reached over the table and placed a hand on her forehead.

"Just dandy," she grumbled irritated before sticking a potato into her mouth.

"How'd you know?" Tracey arched an eyebrow as she drank her pumpkin juice.

"Malfoy was bragging to the lads back at the dormitory."

Nel rolled her eyes. "Of course," She shook her head. "Those idiots are only fascinated by me because they think I'm related to Salazar Slytherin."

Nel's bored expression fixed across the dinning hall to a very awkward interaction between Lupin and Snape. Nott and Davis blinked at each other exchanging a look.

"But you are-" They said in unison.

"Nope, I'm not," she said more in denial before getting her mouth busy and taking a huge bite out of a bread roll. Being related to Slytherin himself meant being related to You-Know-Who and that… That was not possible. It wasn't something Nel wanted to even think about it.

" _But you are_ -" Tracey insisted. "You're a Parselmouth."

"So?" She retorted irritated. "So's Potter and he's not related to Slytherin as far as we know."

"Yeah, but You-Know-Who gave it to him."  
  
"Well maybe he did something to me to!" She snapped at her two friends. The two inched away from her exchanging a worried look.   
"Sorry," She lowered her head and put her utensils down after her outburst. "This… This is why I'm entertaining Malfoy. Maybe the persons who left me at the abbey, maybe they were my parents. It's a big clue." She explained.

Theodore and Tracey had no choice but to agree.

It was then that mail was delivered and her owl, Barberry, came swooping down dropping two letters in front of her. The first was from Professor Lupin, it was written in his perfect loopy handwriting that slanted to the right.

_Ms. Saintday,  
  
please meet me at my office after dinner. It is important.   
  
Thank you.   
  
\- Professor R. Lupin_

Her friends commented on what could Lupin possibly want with her. She shrugged and regardless met the professor's eyes across the table and nodded.

The second letter was written in a familiar sharp handwriting.

_E,  
  
Front of the castle.   
Tomorrow.   
Noon.   
  
\- D_

_"Ooooh, how mysterious,"_ Tracey joked reading over her shoulder. "I wonder who _D_ could possibly be," she said sarcastically.

Who did he think he was kidding?

She turned to seek Draco's eyes in the Great Hall and when she met them she crumbled the note up with her hand. He simply raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement. The slightest of curves on his lips.

Whatever, she left the dinning hall ready to meet Professor Lupin in his office.

Arriving at Lupin's office she was surprised to find Harry Potter there instead.

"Let me guess," She began. "Lupin cited you as well?" She said closing the door behind her. Swaggering down the steps of the DaDa office and sitting on top of a nearby trunk.

"Is it true you're going to Hogsmeade with Malfoy?" He asked bluntly.

Nel sighed and raised her head back before letting out a loud frustrated groan. Now even the Gryffindor boys new. IT wouldn't be long before Pansy found out and came to murder Nel. Best to be prepared for that.

"It's a long story," She rubbed her tired eyes. "He's holding something over me," she admitted quickly changing the topic. "Why is everyone so intrigued by the fact that we're going to Hogsmeade? It's not even a big deal," she shrugged.

How could anyone not be intrigued by the two of them going to Hogsmeade?   
Draco was the unofficial Prince of Slytherin and Nel was the potential sole living descendant of Salazar Slytherin. She was a hostile blood traitor, who kept everyone at arms length and was infamously known for her ill temper and distaste for the Slytherin boys. Specially for Malfoy whom she was usually clashing with on the daily.

"Maybe because you two hate each other? Everybody knows that."

He wasn't wrong.

"Thank you," he added. "For what you did in class the other day, but I can fight my own battles."

She huffed slightly yet said nothing. He shouldn't flatter himself like that. She really hadn't done it for him. Maybe it was best to let him think that.

"Do you recon we're in trouble?" She asked changing the topic. After all Lupin had caught her passing notes in class just the other day.

"No Ms. Saintday, nobody's in trouble. Which considering your reputation, you might find quite surprising," he smiled at her as he opened the door. She turned away from him and made a disgruntled noise in the back of her throat.

"You're probably wondering why I've gathered you two here tonight. I know it's a Friday, so I won't hold you here long," Lupin began making his way across the office.   
  
"Do you remember the lesson we had on Boggarts?" He said to the two.

Both students nodded. How could they forget? It was an awesome class. It was the most fun they had ever had in any class.

"Boggarts are shape-shifters. They take the shape of whatever a particular person fears the most. That is what makes them so terrifying," he explained.

"Professor, we already know this," Saintday interrupted with an irate look on her face. Could he just get to the point already?

  
"Patience Ms. Saintday," Lupin paused at the interruption. "I'm afraid you didn't get a chance at the Boggart that day, perhaps you'd like to give it a shot now?"

Nel thought of her worst fears. She eyed a trunk across the room which was violently shaking. Whatever was being kept inside desperately trying to escape. "I think I'll pass," she mumbled.

"The two of you are here since you are particularly susceptible to Dementors all things being considered, Dementors force us to relieve the worst memories of our lives. Our pain becomes their power. Which is why the two of you fainted on the train," Harry turned to look at the teen in surprised. Nel almost looked wounded by Lupin's words. She looked away from both, lowering her eyes.

Her background wasn't something she particularly enjoyed talking about.

"This is very advanced magic. Well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level," Lupin stated clearly eyeing both of the students carefully.

Why did Lupin want them both to learn how to fight Dementors? Certainly every student was in danger of Sirius Black and of the Dementors that were pursuing them, but why them two specifically? Nel understood his reasoning for brining Harry in, but her? Why would either Sirius Black or Dementors want anything to do with her?  
  
"Very well, the spell I am going to teach you is called the Patronus Charm. Ever heard of it?" He said to both.

Harry shook his head no. Nel nodded yes. Lupin extended his hand for her to elaborate.  
  
"The Patronus Charm is a spell which main but not only use id the primary protection again Dementors and other dark creatures for which there is no defense. There are two types of Patronuses. Corporal and Incorporeal."  
  
"Excellent Ms. Saintday, 10 points Slytherin. Any 6th years amongst your clients?" Lupin teased.

She shot him a look at him butting into her personal business and he chuckled a little at her hostility.

"But that's not quite it. A Patronus is a kind of positive force. For the witch or wizard who can conjure one, the Patronus works something like a shield. The Dementor feeds on it instead of him," Lupin paused as the trunk across the room rattled violently. "But in order for it to work, you must think of a memory. And not just any. This memory needs to be a very happy one. And powerful." His honey eyes darted between the two students before him.

"Think of your happiest memory and come back tomorrow after lunch. We'll begin then."

With that Lupin dismissed them.

"Know what your happiest memory is?" Harry asked as the two returned to their individual house dormitories.

"Yeah," She lied.

She had no idea.

* * *

Nel didn't get much sleep last night. She had spent all night wondering just what her happiest memory was. She hated coming to the realization she didn't have one… At least not a strong one that would ward away a dementor.

All happy memories at Wool's were tainted with the memory of Lucy which in turn made them painful for her. And at Hogwarts… Sure maybe there was the memory of the day she visited Diagon Alley for the first time. Maybe even when she became friends with Tracey and Theodore, and just overall their general shenanigans.

There was one unique memory that was different from the others. It probably wouldn't be enough, but so far it was the best she had.

* * *

It was Christmas even last year, 1992.

Nel had spent the evening celebrating with Harry, Hermione, Ron and his family. They had been nice enough to include her considering both her and Harry always stayed back during the winter break.

The group had been playing with sparklers and throwing snowballs at each other in the courtyard after an early. Overall it had been a fun evening. It was late when they decided to return to the Gryffindor common room, a place where she wasn't allowed. She suspected the party would go on there, but for now she was simply happy to not have been alone.

  
 _"Black Mamba,"_ She spoke to the password which allowed her in. It was late, almost midnight by the time she got back. Walking into the emerald and black common room she was surprised to see Malfoy sitting by himself on one of the leather sofas.

It seemed like this holiday the only Slytherins that stayed behind were her, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle.

She thought it was odd that he had stayed behind. Yet she didn't question it simply not caring enough but looking at him he looked absolutely miserable. She approached him partly to get a better look at him.

He was hunched over with his head buried in his hands. Hearing her footsteps, he looked up and glared at her.

"Lost something _Slugbreath?"_ He insulted defensively.

She kept her curious eyes on his. His face was swollen and tinted with red. Had he been crying? It was probably the first time he was away from home and alone for Christmas. She wouldn't have been surprised if the brat had really been crying.

"Are you okay?" She ignored the insult.

He looked at her surprised, taken aback by the question. Part of him was expecting her to take it back and boldly mock him.

"What do you care anyways?" He snapped kicking the low table in front of him.

He was most definitely not okay.

"Come," She said to him.

She was so used to his harsh tone and language she simply hummed, shoving her hands in her pockets before walking away back to the entrance of the common room.

He paused not moving an inch. He wasn't certain if she had really been speaking to him or not, but who else could she have meant? His father had asked him to remain at Hogwarts stating home wasn't safe due to the raids the Ministry of Magic was performing. Lucius also had to keep a trustful eye at Hogwarts now that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened.   
  
"Are you coming or not?" She called over her shoulder.

Thinking himself crazy Draco decided to follow her out of the room. Nel lead her down the dungeon's corridor and took several turns in the darkness before stopping before a small door. The door was big enough for a small person to walk through.

"Where are you taking me?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow still wearing an air of superiority around her. "This is where I'm hiding your body…" She said mysteriously.

He gave a step back, certainly not doubting this. "Just kidding!" She laughed before opening it and walking through.

The two entered the kitchen where long tables resembling the Great Hall stretched from one end to the other. Shelves and large pantries were stacked with food and other ingredients against the wall. And just around the door were dozens of small cots with tiny people sleeping on them. But wait- they weren't people, they were house elves.

"You've brought me to the servant's quarters?" Malfoy said wrinkling his nose in disgust. His eyes looked around the room pretentiously as if he had walked into a dumb instead of a kitchen. Nel doubted the boy had ever been inside of a kitchen. 

_"Shh!!!"_ She hissed him as a sleeping elf nearby stirred in his sleep. She tilted her head forward and the two advanced further into the kitchen.

She moved around the kitchen with expertise knowing were the bread and all other ingredients were located. Draco watched carefully as she prepared two sandwiches with the most peculiar ingredients turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, stuffing and-  
  
"Do you like cranberry sauce?" She stopped and whispered to him. He simply shrugged indifferent to it.

He wasn't watching out of intrigued. He was worried that she would attempt to poison him.

The two left the kitchen as quietly and as quickly as they got there. He now followed her upstairs. She held both of the large sandwiches which she had wrapped in paper in her hands.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked as they stood outside the Great Hall. By now he seemed to have forgotten about whatever had been bothering him earlier.

She shrugged carelessly, almost like he had when she had asked him if he liked cranberry sauce or not.

"Why not? It's Christmas Eve, good deeds count extra tonight. And let's be real, I've been pretty bad this year," She smiled a little. "I've got a lot of self-redemption to do."  
  
She was lying and he wasn't biting. She knew what it was like to be alone, specially during Christmas. She knew how painful it could be to be so lonely.   
  
"I don't need your pity," he narrowed his eyes in mistrust. "Fine," She shrugged again and handed him his sandwich with eyes filled with contempt. "Have it your way."  
She said before turning away and back in the direction of the Slytherin dormitories.

"No, wait-" He reached for her arm holding her back. The thought of being alone on Christmas was haunting to him. He felt lonely and Crabbe and Goyle weren't always the best company to keep around. Maybe she was being sincere. It was a risk he'd have to take.

Nel opened the door to the Great Hall and stepped in, he followed and marbled at the decorations. In the absolute darkness of the night the massive tree at the end seemed to be glowing with hundreds of golden lights. The night sky was still enchanted to make it seem as if snow was falling down. Yet the stars were still visible above.   
  
"Pretty. Isn't it?"

Without another word Nel took a seat on top of a dining table and unwrapped her sandwich. After a long day of throwing snowballs this was just what the doctor had ordered. He did the same neither saying much. He eyed his sandwich oddly, it actually looked disgusting.

"I'm a terrible cook," She said in between bites. "But I make the best sandwiches," she stated awfully proud of her monstrous creation.

He took a bite out of it hesitantly. He'd never had anything like it.

"This is actually not bad," he said thoughtfully.

"Thanks, it's a leftover sandwich. Leftovers of anything Crabbe and Goyle didn't finish anyways." Both shared a laugh.

Draco's mind still twisted over her reasons for doing this. Nel wasn't the type to believe in any redemptions. At least not from what he'd learned about her in the past two years. She was more stubborn than anyone he knew, wasn't the kind of person to change her mind about things just like that. She must've seen something in him that seemed personal to her.

"I'll never get tired of looking at this tree," She said interrupting his train of thought. "Back at Wool's we get a small one every year. Skinny pitiful thing, with almost no branches. It always tilts to the sides due to the tacky pink ornaments that Wool uses."

_"Wool's?"_ He asked confused.

He noted that her ears turned red from over sharing and she took a large bite out of her sandwich stuffing her mouth so she wouldn't speak any more.  
He gathered that was probably the orphanage where she lived.

"Hey, you better not get any funny ideas Saintday," he spoke in that snappy bitter tone he was known for. She looked at him oddly yet thankful he hadn't further pressed about her slip. "This doesn't mean that we're friends got it?" His eyes were glued to the massive tree at the center of the Great Hall.   
  
She couldn't help but smile a little at this, "Wouldn't dream of it Malfoy."

The next morning Nel was surprised to actually find some gifts underneath her tree. It was nothing grand of fancy, regardless she was touched by the gestures. Theodore had gotten her some ink and parchment for the year, something that would be most useful to her in her business affairs. A Quidditch poster from Tracey which she suspected was a gift for _her_ and not for Nel. Regardless she hung it up between their beds to make her friend happy.

She'd knitted some gloves for the two of them. They weren't perfect but she was hoping they'd do just the trick in keeping them warm for the rest of the winter.

She had agreed to meet the Gryffindors for breakfast. Exiting the common room, she was surprised to see Malfoy standing in the common room.

"There you are," he said with his arms crossed over his chest. There seemed to be an annoyed look on his face.

She flashed him a confused look. Had he been waiting for her? Were they actually friends now?

"Crabbe and Goyle left for breakfast already," He uttered as if explaining why he was there standing alone. "They found this outside in the corridor. It has your name on it," he signaled to a large box that had been placed on the low table.  
She eyed the box carefully. The gift-wrapping paper was wrapped with precision and bore a rich checkered emerald and black diamond pattern that was tied together by a thick black ribbon. There was a square tag at the top that had Nel Saintday scrawled on it in sharp handwriting.

She looked at the gift completely stunned.

"Thanks for holding it for me," She said awkwardly still being unable to remove her eyes from the gift. She didn't know what was inside, but she had certainly never seen maybe even touched a box that was wrapped so beautifully. "I'll take it back to my room-"

"No-," He said rather quickly. She arched an eyebrow at his odd behaviors. "Open it here," he pulled out his wand. "It could be cursed."

She let out a small laugh. _Yeah right._ As if somebody would try and curse her. She wasn't Harry Potter of anyone important. However, one could never be too safe. Maybe the Weasley twins had send it to her- or maybe it had been Harry, but she doubted that they would get her something this nice.

"I guess you're right," She said dropping her knees on the carpet and slowly undoing the ribbon and wrapping with care. She didn't want to ruin it. She also wasn't sure if she should keep the wrapping or not.

There was obviously a black box inside. Hesitantly she reached for it and removed it from the table. Curious to what was inside. Wincing and preparing for the worst she opened it. However, nothing happened. No harm was done. Inside was a piece of clothing wrapped in more paper. More layers? Again, she undid it carefully and pulled out a black jumper. It was probably the softest fabric she had ever touched. It almost felt unreal or like how'd she would imagine touching a cloud would feel like.

"This is..." She gasped feeling the texture in between her fingertips.

"It's made from Vicuña, the world's softest fabric. Way better than cashmere," Malfoy said smugly peering over her shoulder. "You can tell?" She marveled at his ability to be able to tell just with his sight.

"It doesn't say who it's from," She said looking under the many wrappings.

"Do you like it?" Malfoy asked in an uninterested tone.

"Do I like it?" She repeated her voice almost breaking. "I've never had anything half as decent as this in my life," she hugged it close to her chest. "I almost feel like it'll melt in my arms," she laughed weakly. "Look! Touch it!" She said moving the fabric close to him beaming. He raised his hand and denied it with a bored look on his features. "I'm almost afraid to wear it. What if I ruin it?"   
She rambled anxiously as her mind wondered to who would’ve taken the time to get her such a thoughtful gift. She was more than touched. She was elated. She could’ve cried at the gesture if the boy hadn’t been there. It was the first time that she had something that was hers and truly hers alone. It hadn’t been owned by anyone before, it didn’t have any signs of tear or wear. It was hers. It might as well have been made out of cotton or wool and she would’ve been just as moved by the gesture.

Draco had just in time snatched the card that had her name written on it. He hadn't noticed that the back of it read _'For Draco, Love Mum. Happy Xmas'_

That had been a close one.

"Who do you think sent it?" She wondered out loud. "Do you think it was Professor Snape?"

He fought the urge to roll his eyes at her reasoning. Snape? _Really?_

"Does it matter?" He said irritated.

"I just want to thank them. Maybe give them something nice?" She said concerned before turning her attention back to the box. "It has to be someone that I know… Obviously!"

Malfoy wasn't going to be much help, but maybe Fred and George could help her figure it out. Draco glanced around the room nervously. What would she do if she knew it had been him?

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't even realize she was on her way out of the Common Room sweater I hand.

"I best be off. See you around. Happy Christmas!" She called over her shoulder with a broad smile before exiting the room.

She didn't hear but the boy stood there alone.

"Happy Christmas…" he said more to himself.


	11. Chapter 11

**1 9 9 3, October 31st**

"You're late."

Draco said tapping his foot with one of his arms crossed over his chest. The other one was resting on that ridiculous arm sling.

"And you're still wearing that ridiculous thing," she stated walking up to him. He was totally faking his hippogriff injury and she knew it. Madame Pomfrey could heal bones in minutes, everybody knew that. He was just doing this to get Hagrid's hippogriff executed and make the man miserable.

It wasn't fair.   
  
Nel wasn't wrong when she had assumed that Malfoy being the pompous peacock that he was, was going to be extremely well dressed for their trip to Hogsmeade. He wore a black turtleneck sweater; matching dress pants and his brand leather shoes. He also accessorized with a ring on each hand.   
Not wanting to be underdressed she wore that black sweater she had received for Christmas last year over an old white turtleneck sweater and a brown glen check skirt that reached above her knee.

"Fifteen minutes," he said without looking down at his watch.

"Excuse me," she drawled out sarcastically. "I was busy dragging my feet here."

She'd never let him know she was busy throwing the little clothes she had over her shoulders being unsure of what to wear. She wouldn’t put it past him to judge her choice in fashion. He took in her appearance yet to her surprise said nothing.

"We'll have to wait for the next carriage," he said shoving his hands into his pockets. She eyed him carefully from the side of her peripheral vision as she reached his side. She swatted his injured arm and instinctively he flinched and grabbed onto her lower arm stopping the attack.

"I knew it," She said triumphantly. "You're such a phony," she pulled her arm back to her person. "You're not even hurt!"

"It was a reflex," he argued back. "You try getting hurt by that beast and live to tell the tale. I almost saw my life flash before my eyes," he said dramatically. She couldn't help but laugh at his theatrics.  
  
"You're so dramatic. Have you ever considered doing theater?" He had an irritated look on his face. "No, I'm serious. I'd love to see your rendition of _Hamlet_ ," She teased poking his arm. He shrugged off her touch not bothering to ask just what _Hamlet_ was. 

"Where are Crabbe and Goyle anyway?" She asked casually, fidgeting slightly looking over her shoulder seeing if they were coming up any moment now.

"It's just us two," she heard him say.

Nel didn't want to look at him. There was something awkward about the whole situation. She said nothing in response and stood next to him. She noted there were no other students around, probably because they had already left to Hogsmeade.

The carriage pulled up and she froze in the spot. It was being pulled by therstals. Those filthy creatures that terrified her. He seemed oblivious to this considering he probably couldn't see them.

"Come on," He said walking forward.

It took him a moment to realize she wasn't following. He stopped and looked back realizing her eyes were fixed on the blank spot in front of the carriage. Malfoy shot her an irritated look before grabbing her by the wrist and leading her to the black carriage. He opened the door for her and help her up. She couldn’t help but feel disconcerted by his uncharacteristic polite manners. He looked at her shaken expression and how her eyes continued to be fixed on that blank spot in front of the carriage.

“Is this really so terrible for you?” He asked making her snap out of her trance. She shot him a look and elbowed his ‘injured’ arm again. She turned away from the horses of death instead turning her attention to him. Between the two evils maybe Draco wasn’t the worse one.  
“Believe it or not there are worse things than you Malfoy.”

He rolled his eyes as the two rode the Road to Hogsmeade. The road lead through the Forbidden Forest and numerous mountain fields surrounding the castle. It was rather beautiful.

He rolled his eyes at her comment.

“How’s your ingenious plan to keep Parkinson away going? Half of the school already knows about our outing. I’m surprised she hasn’t come for my throat yet.”

“Well,” He said with a smug smirk. “I am rather popular,” he declared arrogantly. “Don’t confused fame with infamy,” she retorted without missing a beat.

“Parkinson should be at Hogsmeade ready to hunt me down. So be ready if you spot her.”

Of course, she’d be ready, wands up and everything. Parkinson wouldn’t hesitate in sending a hex in Nel’s direction for the pettiest things. She didn’t want to imagine what she’d do when she found out she was at Hogsmeade with her _‘Drakey,’_ Nel mentally gagged.

“Also – I am not doing your homework or carrying your books.” She wore a no-nonsense type of look on her face which meant these were nonnegotiable terms for her. “If anything, you should carry mine.”

“What do I look like? Your servant?” He scoffed at her terms. “Besides, I _am_ injured, in case you haven’t noticed,” he said lightly waving his _‘injured’_ hand. She hit him again, not hard, and he let out the most dramatic painful moan she had ever heard.

“Such a diva,” she grumbled as they arrived to Hogsmeade. “I can’t wait for this to be over with…”

Nel had a feeling that this week was going to go by at a painfully slow. I’d be hell having to be with stuck up Malfoy enduring Parkinson’s hateful looks. However, the thought of having one clue, that one thread that could lead to her family kept her going.

Soon they arrived and Hogsmeade proved to be just as magical and maybe even more beautiful than Diagon Alley. Ochre and autumn colored trees decorated the mountain side background of the village as students wearing sweaters of red, green, yellow and blue and other witches and wizards walked around the streets.

Again, Nel was in awe. It reminded her of her introduction to this magical world. She was sure she was never going to stop marveling at the wonders of this world. Draco instead walked around eyeing everything curiously. He wasn’t taken aback in awe, but he was intrigued by the quaint wizarding village.

Nel didn’t even bother waiting for Malfoy and ran towards the first store to the right. It was a raggedy building with a sign that read Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. She peered through the glass window with a smile looking at the many quills and other writing utensils. Some of the quills were exuberant made with large ostrich feathers, others made with phoenix, and even Galapagos finch. Quill tips made out of gold, black and silver and many different ink colors. Getting one was tempting. There was some readable ink that could be read under any type of lighting, amethyst colored ink, and mood changing ink.

“Are you getting one?”

She had almost forgotten that Malfoy was with her.

“It’s tempting,” she admitted not taking her eyes off a small black feathered one. She had saved enough to treat herself to something nice. However, it wouldn’t be savvy to spend it on a pen. Specially if an emergency were to arise.

“Why don’t you just get it?” He repeated. He knew that she could afford it. Afterall she had been doing the majority of Crabbe and Goyle’s schoolwork for the past three years. Surely, she had to have amassed enough to afford a quill.

“Because I don’t need it,” she explained. “My quill works just fine,” she sighed. Maybe she’d treat herself for it for her birthday tomorrow or maybe even for Christmas.

“But you want it,” he insisted. He looked at her oddly. He really didn’t understand this simple problem. If she wanted it and she could get it? Why didn’t she simply do it? Why limit oneself to the simple pleasures of life like this? She looked at him somewhat irritated. Of course, he wouldn’t understand. Malfoy was the type of brat that had probably never been denied anything in his life.   
  
“There’s a difference between wanting and needing. I’ll come back for it when I need it.” Growing bored with the conversation not wanting to stick around and buy the quill she turned to look down at the other magic stores down the street: Gladarag’s Wizard Wear, Sprintwithces Sporting Needs and of course Honeyduke’s.

“Come on, let’s go!” She made way to Honeyduke’s Malfoy walking behind her. Honeyduke’s had a sickeningly sweet, nutty, nougat flavor when you walked in. The store was warm and over packed with students. Specially since it was Halloween and they were giving away pumpkin pastry samples. Neither said much to the other as they ogled the many candies on the shelf displays and pointed at giant lollipops that other students were eating. When they reached the counter Nel pointed at some lemon bars that were in the back of the display and the large man behind the counter obliged packing some up for her.

She was about to pay when a hand reached over her shoulder and placed the money on the counter. She turned to look at the Slytherin boy with surprise.

“I don’t need you to,” she said in a hostile tone. She wasn’t about to be Malfoy’s charity case.

“It’s only proper,” he responded in a civil tone. She realized he didn’t get anything and the two exited the shop.

“Thank you, by the way,” She said when they were outside, regretting having been so rude at his polite gesture. “Don’t mention it,” he said hands in pocket turning away from her.

“Look!” She pointed out at a building further down the street. “Zonko’s!” She practically bounced in her step more than excited to go. “I’ll meet you there,” he said ominously before walking away. Nel didn’t even wait to see what Malfoy she instead jogged up to the store and peered inside of the window. If the line to get to Honeyduke’s was long the line to get into Zonko’s almost went around the store. A small crowd of kids and teens were also pressed up against the window glass looking at some of the prank items and toys on display. Obediently Nel went back to the line to wait for her turn. She had made up her mind to patiently stand and wait to enter the shop when something caught her attention. 

Across the street she saw Draco walking around suspiciously. He looked over his shoulder and more hunched in a matter that was unnatural for his attention seeking nature making him look almost suspicious as he walked into the shop across the street.

What was he hiding? 

She stood in the unmovable line alone for a couple of minutes before she decided to go after him. 

She didn’t if she had decided to follow him due to the curiosity or the boredom of waiting in line for an hour. She approached the old building and read the painted name on a board Maestro’s Music Shop. 

Why on Earth would Malfoy want to go to a music shop? She didn’t know what she had been expecting, maybe a store filled with dark sorcery and dangerous artifacts – but this?

The bell rang as she walked in. Instruments of all kinds even some that she had never even seen lined up the many shelves and rows of the dusty store which reminded her of Ollivanders. A piano by the entrance had been bewitched to play itself in accordance of whatever tune it had last heard. There were a handful of other witches and wizards hanging around the store reading sheet music and comparing instruments and other accessories. There was a lovely song in the air a melancholic tune that welcomed any guest in. She began curiously wandering around the store with both of her arms held behind her back. For a moment she even forgot why she was in the store, completely distracted by the odd trinkets. It wasn’t until she turned around a bookshelf that she came to a surprised halt.

That lovely mellow music that had been playing.

It was Malfoy.

He stood in the darkness at the end of the store almost hidden behind a bookshelf with a violin in his hands playing a tune that was unfamiliar to her (Gymnopedie No. 1). His eyes were closed as he was deeply focused on his performance, the music and the moment. His fingers moving expertly with the violin’s chords. His _‘injured’_ arm out of its sling using the bow. Elowen hadn’t realized she had been gawking at him without shame until he opened his eyes. Startled played a scratchy chord almost dropping the musical instrument from the shock.

How could such a horrible person like Malfoy make such beautiful music?

“Nel,” He sputtered her name and lowered the instrument. She didn’t even bother in correcting him. “You tell anybody about this, and it’ll be the end of you. I swear it by Merlin’s beard!” He threatened angrily raising a finger and pointing in her direction.

“You play the violin?” She asked in surprise ignoring his sudden embarrassment. Malfoy was so odd, why would he be embarrassed about having such a skill? Why would he be embarrassed of having the power to create beautiful music? It was ironic really, for a person that was constantly seeking attention for him not to want a musical spotlight? She simply found it to be really odd.

“Some,” he admitted with rare modesty. She was looking at him with what he interpreted to be fascination. “Why did you stop? It was nice,” she complimented. “It was very nice, actually,” she said lightly swaying as she stood. Her hands still behind her back holding her bag of sweets.

“You like Satie?” He asked. She didn’t know what that pretentiously pronounced word meant or was. “What?”

“Never mind,” he murmured still holding the instrument.

“Why have I never heard you play before?” She asked leaning against the wall, genuinely curious. Surely, she would’ve heard him at this point. Specially after three years of living in the Slytherin dormitories.

“I don’t bring it with me. Do you know what would happen if any of the brutes that live with me laid a hand on my _precious_?”

 _His precious-_ oh damn. Nel assumed he was referring to his violin. She was pleasantly surprised and bit back a small laugh. So, Draco did actually care about something that wasn’t himself.

“You’re laughing,” he said self-consciously his tone rougher than he intended. Already feeling mortified that he had been caught in such a vulnerable state and specially by her. Out of all people.

“I’m not,” she said but couldn’t help but laugh lightly. “Play something,” she asked him kindly.

She didn’t even realize that she was now standing next to him. Feeling hyper conscious about the closeness he inched away giving a step back and once again picked up the instrument. He was thoughtful for a moment before selecting his piece, _L’estro Armonico Op. 3, No. 6._

He began playing with a couple of bold strokes.  
She looked at him enthralled, almost in awe. She had never heard such powerful music like this, and much less in person. He couldn’t help but smile slightly at her childish expression of wonder.  
He played terribly well, like the greedy songbird he was only coming to an abrupt stop when the doorbell chime interrupted him.

“Let’s get out of here. Before someone we know walks in,” he said swiftly putting the instrument back in its place.

“I don’t get why you’re so embarrassed,” she said as they walked out. “Best I can do is whistle. You’re a musical prodigy and you hide it?” She poked nosily.

“It’s personal,” he shot her a glare which meant she should stop asking questions. However, she wasn’t going to back down so easily. Exiting the shop, she saw two mops of red hair across the street.

Fred and George looked appalled by the company Nel was keeping shooting both of them a nasty look. Draco gladly returned it and walked past them to greet his posse of Slytherins outside of Zonko’s.

“We heard the rumors but we didn’t want to believe it,” Fred began.   
“Malfoy? Really?” George added wrinkling his nose in digust.

“He’s a complete git.”  
  
“An outstanding arsehole.”  
  


“A real bastard.”  
  
“There’s no worse company to keep around.”  
  
“I know,” She let out an irritated sigh. “Trust me, I’m not here willingly.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Fred crossed his arms over his chest. Not that she cared whatever his emotions were. Her relationship with the twins did not extend further than managing mischief and a business partnership.

“He’s holding something over my head,” she confessed to both of them.

“Godric, that flabbergasted leech,” George began to pull his wand out of his sleeve ready to hex the third year. 

“It’s only for a week. I’ll be free after that.”

Hearing laughter she looked over her shoulder and saw Malfoy and the other Slytherin jokes looking at the three of them and sniggering at what looked to be an inside joke. She frowned at this. There was an ill feeling about it that made her feel self-conscious as if they were laughing at her.

“He’s up to something,” Fred said in a serious tone. “I know it,” He pulled his wand out.

“Don’t worry,” Nel tried to appease them both. “If he crosses the line, I’ll make him regret it,” she promised. And boy would she be true to her word.

“Show me what you got at Zonko’s!” She asked her associates excitedly peering inside of the bags they were holding.

Nel heard crunching in the ground and she turned to see Draco standing a couple of feet away from the three of them. The twins exchanged an unfriendly look with him before the Slytherins left. At this point Nel had already opened her box of lemon bars and had shared some with the Gryffindors. She waved the twins goodbye and left. 

“Lemon bar?” She offered with uncharacteristically generosity as they returned to the carriages. He said nothing simply shaking his head. He looked a little different now. He walked with his head lowered and he didn’t seem at ease or even intrigued by the village as they walked back. Nel turned to look at a large clock that hung by the entrance of the village. No wonder she was hungry. It was almost lunch time, she’d have to be back at the school soon to meet up with Lupin before the Halloween Dinner Feast.

The two walked into the Three Broomsticks and Draco insisted on walking straight up to the bar. He leaned over over-confident, “Red currant rum,” she said cooly. “On the rocks,” He pretended as if he’d forgotten that Nel was with him. “Oh, and a butter beer,” he looked over his shoulder looking down at her as if she were lame for having a non-alcoholic beer.

Madame Rosemerta, a no-nonsense type of woman looked at him with an arched eyebrow. “I’m old enough to be your mother,” she spoke in that same cool voice before placing two large butterbeer mugs on the table. Elowen couldn’t help but laugh at his lame attempt to get alcohol. Who even liked drinking that stuff? Gross.

The two sat on a small booth in front of a window across from each other.

Most of the people inside of the Three Broomsticks were familiar to the Slytherin girl.

Draco’s roomates were sitting on a nearby table obnoxiously making whooping noises, behaving less civil than the monkeys at the London Zoo. On another table was Pansy, seething with anger sitting with Millicent and Daphne. This didn’t please nor displease Nel, Draco didn’t even seem to notice. Even Ron and Hermione where in here with some other Gryffindors.

“What’s up with them?” Nel asked shooting a death glare at the Slytherin boys. “Why do they keep starring at us?” It was almost as if they were waiting for something to happen.

Draco was uncharacteristically silent. Shrugging off his silence she took a sip from the butterbeer. It was warm, delicious and tasted like spiced butterscotch. It was definitely worth all the fuzzing about.

“This is really good!” She said happily. Again, Draco ignored her comment and avoided her eyes as he took a drink from his own mug.

“So,” she began. He was dreading her asking about the Slytherin lads again, or even worse, about his secret musical abilities. “Are you going to tell me what you know?”

“If I tell you, you’d be out of here in a split second,” he kept a challenging gaze on her.

“I won’t,” She promised.

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He couldn’t tell if she was lying or not.

“I promise,” She repeated. However, he had made up his mind. He didn’t believe her. He leaned back on the booth and crossed his arms over his chest in a pose that demanded an explanation.

“Hogsmeade is beautiful. I got my lemon bars. This butterbeer is great,” she said raising up her mug in a toasting gesture. “And you haven’t been a complete arse and a half. I’d be tempted to stay. Today hadn’t been half bad,” she half smiled at him sincerely. It had been a pleasant outing.

“Then maybe you should run out of here,” His tone was dark, eyes lowering to the table. Her expression morphed into a confused one. “What?” She asked perplexed by the sudden shift in his mood.

“Leave,” He said warningly.

She was about to ask what the hell he was talking about when a third person joined their party. Blaise Zabini plopped himself next to Malfoy and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“I see it and I don’t believe it,” he began his eyes were fixed on the girl’s face but in his tone, she could tell he was speaking to his friend. “You actually managed to get Saintday to act like a human for once.”

She narrowed her eyes at the dark boy, fighting the urge to utter a dull and confused ‘Huh?’

Draco’s silver eyes bounced from her perplexed expression to Zabini’s haughty one.

He really hadn’t meant for this to happen.

* * *

Earlier in the week Crabbe and Goyle had been asking Malfoy about their plans to go to Hogsmeade this weekend. The three wanted to go and try one of each of Honeyduke’s products. Draco told them to do whatever they wanted to do since he’d be visiting the village with Nel Saintday.

“With Saintday?” Zabini who suddenly walked into the dormitory asked as if he had just said the name of a disease. “Why are you going with _Saintday_?” He asked again wrinkling his nose in distaste.

Nel wasn’t an easy person to like. She was hostile to most. She also wasn’t the prettiest girl in their class, but she wasn’t the most rotten looking of them all. Of course, with cheap clothes, choppy bangs and dull hair that reached her shoulders you bet someone like Zabini wouldn’t have spared her a second glance. Not to mention she had no surname or a single galleon to her name.

Draco felt judged under his friend’s gaze. Crabbe and Goyle were also looking at him oddly. So, he did what he knew how to do best. He lied.

“Just a bet I have going on with Flint,” he lied with ease bouncing a stress ball on his ‘uninjured’ hand. “We want to see if Saintday is actually half Hagraven or not,” he laughed cruelly lowering his eyes as he alluded to the horrid bird like monster. Would it have been easier to tell them another lie? That he was forcing her to go to Hogsmeade with him? Or maybe the truth? The fact that he often enjoyed her company. Was that so terribly wrong?  
  
“Yeah?” Zabini laughed loudly at the comparison. “How much?” He said plopping himself at the foot of Malfoy’s emerald green bed.

Crabbe and Goyle exchanged a confused look. As far as their dim heads knew, there was no bet. “Nothing, really,” Malfoy shrugged. “This I’m doing for fun.”

Zabini let out a low whistle. “You and Saintday, Hogsmeade,” he shook his head in disbelief. “This I gotta see.”

Which was when Theodore Nott walked in and exited the room just as quickly shook by what he had just heard.

* * *

“So are you?” Zabini jabbed. “Half a Hagraven?” He laughed before taking a sip from his own butterbeer he had been carrying.

Draco didn’t want to look at Elowen’s hurt expression. He had tried to warn her. To get her to leave as conspicuously as possible. Meanwhile Blaise was eyeing her attire up and down. He noticed the contrasting sweater and arched an eyebrow. Somehow it looked familiar to him. Blaise was known for being the quiet Slytherin but when he spoke it stung.

“Oh,” He said after a long sip.

Besides it was no surprise he was being so terribly rude. Blaise was friends with Pansy. He’d do everything in his power to help her at any time. No matter the circumstances. “You actually…” He looked between the blonde and the brunette sitting in the booth with him. “Ohhh,” he clicked his tongue. “You actually thought the two of you were…?” He began laughing before finishing that statement.

 _Friends?_ Nel filled the spot he had left blank in his speech. The nearby boys at the Slytherin table who were eavesdropping were beginning to laugh a little louder. “You really thought this was a date, didn’t you? Even brought out your nicest sweater and all.”

_No. That was definitely not what this was._

She was hurt. She looked at Blaise with a callous expression. How could someone be so cruel? Turning her eyes to Draco she looked at him with an incredulous expression. He wasn’t going to say anything? He wasn’t going to correct Blaise? Tell him the truth? Come out clean and defend her?   
From the looks on his face, he wasn’t.

Her nails had been gripping the skin of her upper legs so tightly that half-moon marks were beginning to form on them. A familiar anger from the humiliation began boiling in her temples brining in a terrible migraine. Her eyes now turned into black angry slits fixed on the blonde before her who looked paler than usual. This was his last chance. Either he told Zabini and the rest of the lot the truth or she’d make him pay for this – gravely. She’d make them all pay for this.

Again, he didn’t.

* * *

A wizard and his owl were perched outside of the Three Broomsticks calmly sipping on a cup of tea. It really was such a lovely afternoon. A storm seemed a distance away. Until he noticed something odd. His porcelain cup lightly rattled and upon closer inspection he noticed a halo forming in the golden liquid. He lifted it up analyzing it and it was then that he felt it. The sudden vibrations on the ground.

He barely managed to move out of the way before the explosion. The Three Broomsticks blew up. The window and entire side wall was blown to a mess debris of brick and wood. Inside the remains of the curtains and booth had been set ablaze. Blaise removed his coat which had caught fire. Malfoy was aggressively trying to pat down the flames that burned the sleeves of his sweater.   
Students ran array away from the incendio, there was screaming, broken mugs and other broken windows from the explosion. Other brave wizards stepped forward to put the fire out.

Nel didn’t stop to take responsibility for her explosive temper. She quickly walked back to the carriages and got in the first one alone. She didn’t even bother with her uneasiness around Therstals. Hot tears were beginning to threaten to spill from her eyes. She wiped them off before they could break the barrier of her eyes.

Arriving at Hogwarts feeling no remorse and already late for lessons with Lupin she stormed into the professor’s office where Harry and him were already waiting for her.

Both took in her appearance her disheveled hair, the torn sweater, the skin stained with soothe and small glass cuts on her face.

Lupin and Harry exchanged a look. Both shock and concern in their eyes. Harry didn’t think he had ever seen anybody bearing so much anger. Not even his Aunt Petunia when he accidentally destroyed her garden that one-time Uncle Vernon fell out the window and broke an arm because of him. Nel was livid. Harry had a feeling that whatever it was what had happened they’d find out soon.

“Nel,” Lupin began carefully hoping the nickname would ease her flaming temper. After all anger was a sudden and impulsive reaction. “Perhaps we should try this another time? You see the spell requires you to be in a calm state of mind-“

“I am calm!” She snapped. She not calm.

Lupin pondered for a moment. She’d attempt a Patronus and she would probably fail. What could be the worst that could happen? She’d try and fail again and again until she got tired. Maybe it would even be good thing since it would allow her to blow off some steam.

She whipped out her wand and braced herself. Ready to think of her strongest memory she could. Ready to cast the incantation. The words already memorized in her head. Harry stepped in front of the Boggart which turned into a Dementor.

With a deep scowl on her face, an aching soul and a heavy heart she pointed at the dark creature before her. “Expecto Patronum!” She shouted. As the anger pulsed through her being instead of joy.

It all happened so fast.

She was taken aback when instead of a pure white light an obsidian one with tints of burgundy was casted. She was so shocked she dropped her wand almost as if it had burned her skin.

Whatever spell she had casted; this dark orb instead attacked Harry. Leeching the energy out of him almost like a dementor.

“Expecto Patronum!” Lupin was quick to act, and a silver wolf erupted from the tip of his wand. The spirit chased off and vanished whatever vile thing had come out from her cursed wand.

Harry fainted.

Rushing Lupin turned to face the Boggart ready to cast riddikulus at it. However, he stopped. He heart faint painful sobs and witnessed a truly horrifying sight.

The Boggart has shifted.

Lupin saw two girls in his office.  
  


Nel Saintday had a twin.  
  


One of the girls was smiling with malice, savoring the horrible moment. Enjoying the pain and destruction it had created. The other was emotionally wounded and crumbled into a sobbing mess.

He couldn’t tell which one was the real one...


	12. Chapter 12

Elowen could not stop crying.

It almost seemed as if everything she been bottling up for the past couple of years simply came spilling out in exhausting shivering sobs.  
  
"I-I'm so sorry," she tried to stop the tears, but they didn't seem to have an end. Professor Lupin sat on the edge of his desk simply observing the poor girl. She sat on his chair wiping away the tears with a wet hand. Lupin had dismissed Harry the moment he woke up. Harry had wanted to linger when he saw how hard the girl was crying, he had never seen anybody cry so hard before.

"Eat it, come on. It'll make you feel better," The professor encouraged signaling to the chocolate bar that she had been holding in a hand. She obeyed and took a small bite.

How mortifying was this. Crying in public and worst of it in front of a professor. She didn't want to burden him with his emotions. He probably had better things to worry about.

"I feel like there's a lot to unpack here Ms. Saintday," Lupin spoke in a calm voice. "First and foremost - Who did this to you?"

She remained silent as fewer tears sliding down her face.

"Nel," Lupin licked his lips. Despite her silence he was patient. "If you want me to help you, you have to cooperate with me. As a professor I have to report this. I can give whoever did this to you detention."

It was sweet of Professor Lupin to want to make things right, but a petty detention wouldn't do it. She was going to make them suffer just as much as they had made her suffer.

"Unless, of course, you'd rather take this up with Professor Snape."

Merlin. No. Snape would probably make Nel clean toilets for the rest of the year for this. Of course, it would only be a matter of time before Snape and the rest of Hogwarts found out just what had happened at the Three Broomsticks.

"I'll take care of it professor," she mumbled.

At this point she didn't care if she was cursed. She was sick and tired of those Slytherin bastards. She was sick of being looked down upon. She was sick of being told she didn't belong in the house. Of being the misfit the class. To make matters worse she felt so stupid and more than anything naïve forever trusting Malfoy. The arsehole probably didn't even know who had abandoned her in the abbey to begin with.

"Did they hurt you?" he asked concerned.

She remained silent. He could see the hurting reflected in her expression. The lust for vengeance that blazed in her dark eyes. She had spent the entire trip back to Hogwarts plotting the horrible things she would do to those boys. She'd make them with they were dead. She thought dramatically.

"Vengeance is not always the solution Nel. Fighting fire with fire is not going to solve anything," he said wisely. "Vengeance both poisons and drains the soul," he advised.

She fought the urge to scoff at his words. Of course, Lupin wouldn't understand. With his kind smiles, chocolates and easy nature. What would Lupin know about vengeance? The scars on his body made her want to think otherwise but his nature was contrasting to his rough appearance.

"I couldn't help it professor. They made me so angry. I was so, so angry. I was so embarrassed. I didn't even realize when - I closed my eyes and the next thing I knew. Everything blew up and everything and everyone was on fire," her voice cracked as she spoke.  
  
Lupin gathered her ragged appearance and her words and her words and putting two and two together put together an idea of what had happened. He had a feeling it wouldn't be long before found out.

"Does this happen to you a lot?" Lupin leaned down so that he was at eye level with his student. Magical outbursts induced by rage… His eyes focused on the moles that doted her face. There was something odd about them. He couldn't help but wonder if…

She nodded weakly.

Lupin seemed deep in thought still looking at the constellation of dots on her face. That was no ordinary birth mark. She had been branded with it. With this very powerful curse.

Considering the third-year's boggart was herself…  
Lupin sensed there was a hindering darkness inside of the girl. He knew she was a Parselmouth. He knew that her wand was made up of terrible omens of death and then there was the hushed-up fact that she could see Therstals. There was no explanation for it. The most Lupin had at this point was a weak theory that could explain the source of her curse.

"Your Patronus," he cocked his head brushing over to a different subject. "What memory did you use?"

She shook her head slightly. There wasn't one particular memory that brought overzealous love and joy to her. Maybe the first time she made magic at Ollivanders or the first time she walked into Diagon Alley. She could've thought of Lucy but thinking about her was too painful. Knowing she had left and never returned or even bothered to contact her had left a deep wound that was still fresh and aching. "I don't think I have one that's good enough."

Lupin hummed for a moment deep in thought. "Try focusing on maybe not on the memory itself, but on the emotion you felt. Seize that emotion and thwart it."

"Professor," Her eyebrows knotted in fear. "That black thing that came out of my wand- what was that?"

"I believe it was a corrupted Patronus," He began. "It's rare but some witches and wizards that are unable to cast Patronuses can instead sometimes cast these dark energies. I did warn you we were dealing with very advanced level magic."

She butted asking what that was. "I believe a corrupted Patronus has the opposite effect that the spell intends. Instead this creature drains the energy of a person and manifests darkness instead of light. It's what Dementors are made out of. Which would be why Harry fainted." He explained.

The two shared an uncomfortable silence.

"What if I can't cast one?" She asked weakly wiping her nose.

"You will," Lupin encouraged gently. "With time. Next time focus on something that elates you. Something that brings you joy." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "But you can't focus on hatred when you do. You can't choose anger and despair over love and joy. I know that sometimes we can't change our natures, but the few choices that we have, we must choose good and make do with the best we can be. Play at our strengths."

She marinated the professor's words taking them in. Looking into the advice he had given.

"Professor, why are you telling me this?" She asked confused. It almost sounded like he actually cared. Like he knew what he was talking about.

"Because like you, I know what it's like to want to be _something_ else."

Nel was about to ask why he had specifically chosen to use the word something, instead of somebody. What did Lupin know? With his easy charm and kind eyes? Why on Earth wouldn't he want to be himself? Everybody (except Slytherin house) seemed to like him just fine.

"Professor Lupin!" A Hufflepuff prefect just barged into the office while rapidly knocking. "All students and teachers are to report to the Great Hall. Sirius Black is in the castle and has attacked the Fat Lady's portrait."

* * *

All students were gathered in the Great Hall and instructed to spend the night there. Females would all sleep on the right and males on the left of the divided hall. The moment a swollen faced Nel walked into the hall she saw Theodore and Tracey exchange a look and rush to her with concern but before they could get close Snape seized the girl by the arm roughly and dragged her down the dungeons to her office.

"Two students are in the Hospital Ward and it is all your fault!" He scolded roughly as they walked his demeanor completely contrasting to Professor Lupin's.

Snape didn’t let her go until they were inside his office. He walked around his desk and picked up a folded newspaper that had a moving picture of the destroyed wall of the Three Broomsticks.

"Because of you two of my students were injured. Three if you include yourself!" He reprimanded. "Blew up the Three Broomsticks!" He shouted.

She looked at his angry face, at the way his pupils seemed to shrink with anger, and she could feel the tears beginning to swell again.  
  
"It-It wasn't my fault," she protested weekly her voice cracking.

"What were you thinking?!" He shouted once again slamming the newspaper loudly against his desk.

"I didn't mean to," She said weakly, eyes scanning around the room seeking for a way out. Almost praying somebody would pray come save her from Professor's Snape wrath.

"Madame Rosemerta is not pleased. Because of you the school has to pay for severe damages that were made to a historical landmark! You inconsiderate, thoughtless, irresponsible girl. You could've killed someone!"

She felt it again. That hot anger pulsing through her body. The type that made her hands shake and her head hurt.

"IT WASN'T MY FAULT!" She finally snapped.

Several vials in the room that held potions and other ingredients rattled for a second before exploding making glass shards fly everywhere. She looked at them fearfully. Her breathing harsh, small chest heaving as she was confused by her brief moment of rage.

"Just as I thought," His shoulders relaxed, and his tone became smooth. Just what was he playing at with his sudden behavioral change.

Once again, the tears had begun to stream down her face. She wiped them away furiously.

"It seems like your outbursts lead to an abrupt destruction of your surroundings… And those in them…" He lowered his head deep in thought a curtain of dark hair hiding his face. "I expect it has to do with your lack of self-control over your woeful adolescent emotions."  
  
"I didn't mean to…" She said more quietly. Her arms rounding around her body as she hugged herself.

Snape leaned over his desk. "Control your emotions," He said rather harshly.

"I'm just so angry all the time!"

"Apply yourself Saintday," He said sternly. It was a harsh slap back to reality after having come from Lupin's warm office.

"Sir, why am I like this?" She cried.

As always Snape dismissed her without another word. "We'll finish this conversation later. Elowen from now on you are to report to my office after class every Tuesday and Thursday." He said reaching inside of his dark robes and pulling out a handkerchief and handing it to her.

“I have also already heard Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Zabini’s version of the events that transpired at Hogsmeade. As a punishment they are to report to detention with me for an insufferable amount of time...” He almost made it sound as if it was more of a punishment for him instead of the two boys.  
“As to you, you are banned from all future trips to Hogsmeade and from the Three Broomsticks until further notice. Thank your lucky stars Madame Rosemerta has chosen not to bring this up with the Ministry of Magic or press charges and surprisingly neither has Mr. Malfoy…” Snape trailed off suspiciously as he looked down at his hand and opened and closed it in the oddest fashion.

It was no shock that Mr. My-Father-Will-Be-Hearing-About-This had already written to daddy dearest to inform him of whatever had happened at Hogsmeade. What was shocking was that Lucius Malfoy, the man who had personally made it his crusade to have Hagrid’s hippogriff executed, was not suing her. This man had decided to have a government serve capital punishment to a magical creature because it _bruised_ his only son’s arm and he wasn’t going to do anything to the girl that actually set him on fire and almost killed him?

It was unsettling and out of character. So was his odd behavior towards her. His intrigue and fascination towards the young Slytherin. Which lead Ned to question and wonder just what exactly did Lucius Malfoy know that she didn’t?


	13. Chapter 13

"Is it true she hasn't spoken to anyone since?"   
  
"Yeah," one of the Slytherin third years said before twirling a knot of red spaghetti on his fork and spoon. "Even past her birthday."

"Didn't even go to the Quidditch match no matter how much Davis insisted."

"What does Nott say?" Another asked as he drank his pumpkin juice.

The boy speaking shrugged and let out an incoherent sound.

"I don't think she's said much to either. She's mostly been keeping to herself," Blaise whispered as the four Slytherin boys kept a close eye on the dark-haired girl that was quietly eating just a couple of seats away from them.  
  
"Do you think she's-" Crabbe began his voice on edge.   
"Plotting something?" Goyle finished for him. "She hasn't been taking any clients either."

"I'm sure that must be especially hard on you," Malfoy sneered at his goons nastily. To this day he wasn't really sure if either of them actually knew how to read or write. He did know that the two had been almost singlehandedly funding Nel's underground empire of illicit homework and class notes.   
At this point she must've amassed at least a small fortune; he couldn't help but wonder just what she was possibly saving it for. She certainly hadn’t splurged on that fancy quill back at Hogsmeade.

They all once again turned to look at her in an indiscrete fashion. Nel could feel their eyes on her. This irritated her to no end. She fought the urge to tell them to take a picture or go flog themselves. It was then that their gazes shifted when they saw no other than Harry Potter turning around from the Gryffindor table. They all shot daggers at him.

"Hey," Harry greeted. She raised her head and looked at him with a dead expression on her face before taking a bite from a bread roll.

The humiliation from last week's incident wasn't what was keeping Elowen in an emotionally shut down mode. There were more than a handful of problems in Nel Saintday's hands at the moment that had seniority over whatever bullying the other Slytherins had done to her. She still couldn’t summon a Patronus or even think of one particularly joyous memory to use with the charm. The many Dementors in the area were beginning to become a problem once knocking her out on way to Herbology class. Not to mention Professor Snape’s “emotional control lessons” we’re going terrible.   
  
Also, what did he know about controlling his emotions to begin with? As far as anybody knew Professor Snape was a heartless, fowl nosed, prick.   
  


Worst of all was that she still didn’t know who had dropped her off at the abbey. She doubted if Malfoy had even known from the start. She felt foolish for even thinking he could’ve been a friend to her. She tried not to remember how nice he had been that day at Hogsmeade or how lovely his music was. Just like her Patronus, this memory had been corrupted too, it wasn’t real. 

It wasn’t him.

“Did you hear that Professor Lupin is back?” Harry asked attempting to start a conversation. She said nothing in return and stared at him with a blank expression.

“I’ll see you tonight then?” He asked. She was quiet for a moment before speaking. “Harry,” her voice was hoarse at first. “What if I can’t summon a Patronus?” Her eyes filled with pain as she asked the question which had been burdening her.

The Slytherin boys kept a close eye in the Gryffindor as he turned and instead took a seat before her in the Slytherin table.

Draco couldn’t help but glare daggers at Harry.   
  


Saint Potter.

So perfect.

So opportunistic.

Always so damn polite.

Can’t help but gloat his goodness.

All Potter wanted was a show, why else would he have actually _dared_ to sit in the Slytherin table? He wanted to be taught a lesson. He _had_ to be asking for it. Malfoy was so sick of him. He seemed to be unescapable. He hated how much Potter was worshiped at school. How he couldn’t even escape him at home where his father seemed to be just as intrigued with Scarhead’s life; always probing questions about him and not his own son. It was the same thing with Saintday. He had never figured out why his father seemed to be so fascinated with the orphan girl. Why he spoke to her so respectfully almost as if he had some cold veneration towards her. Both Saintday and Potter were the same, they were names that were probably more familiar to his father’s tongue than Draco’s own name.   
  
Malfoy looked at the hopeful smile on Potter’s face as he interacted with Saintday. How dully typical of Potter acting in charity towards the most vulnerable members of the school.

Nel on the other hand…

His eyes shifted to the sad look in her eyes. He hadn’t meant to hurt her like that. He hadn’t meant for Zabini and the others to find out about their trip to Hogsmeade. That trip was something that was supposed to be _his_ and only _his._

He hated to think about that one Christmas Eve night the two had spent together last year. It had been his first Christmas away from home and from his family. The Ministry was running raids at the time seeking for cursed artifacts relating to the Dark Arts and You-Know-Who. Artifacts he knew were hidden home.   
One wrong move, a misplaced book, wand or item and his family would lose everything. His father would go to jail. Their name would be stained with disgrace. What would happen to his mother? 

He had written to his father that day concerned about his well-being and instead received a scolding Howler in return instructing him to shut up, not write home, and keep a close eye on the happenings involving the Chamber of Secrets. There had been no Happy Christmas wishes or loving expressed concerns for his son. He had been miserable that night. He had even cried in the second-floor girl’s bathroom where he knew nobody would see or hear him.

He still remembered the blank expression on her face when she approached him in the Slytherin Common room that night. He had seen her with the Weasley twins earlier. Two people who Malfoy thought were actually really funny although he would never publicly admit it.

There was no way he could’ve hidden his swollen red face from her. She had to have known he had been crying that night.

"Lost something _Slugbreath?"_ He had insulted defensively hoping she’d go away before she laughed or mocked him.

_"Are you okay?"_

Nobody had ever asked him that simple question before. Not his friends, not his father, not a single professor least of all his family. Proper composure was simply something that was expected of him, emotional nonsense was absolutely unacceptable in the Malfoy household. It was seen as an unnecessary weakness.   
  


She didn’t have to stop and nosey in on his well-being. She didn’t have to drag him to the servant-quarters, feed him that disgusting looking sandwich that was warm tasted like Christmas and keep him company from his loneliness. This uncommon kindness was rare to him.   
Maybe some of the other Slytherin girls would’ve asked if he was okay. Maybe Parkinson would’ve attempted to snog him, but none would’ve kept him company like she did. He knew he certainly wouldn’t have done the same and least of all _for her._

Like Potter, Saintday was an orphan. Something he partially envied. Both weren’t chain-balled to a golden name with high expectations and standards to maintain and live up to. Expectations that had been set for him from the moment of his birth into a life of privilege.   
  
As the sole heir of the Malfoy name, Draco had a lot to live up to. His friendships had to be well rounded with other members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight Pureblood families in England no matter how despicable or dull this company was. He had to be the best in class, Quidditch Team, socially agreeable, he was certain that in the future he’d even have to marry a Pureblooded witch. These expectations confined him since his infancy and allowed no room for second guessing or mistakes.  
  


What would Potter ever know about that? Or even Elowen.

He hadn’t expected for the Three Broomsticks to blow up. For her to set him and Blaise on fire. He wasn’t even aware Elowen had those kinds of problems.

He wanted to be friends with her. Her pranks were funny, and she had been nice to him. Not to mention bloody brilliant at Charms. But how could the two of them ever be friends? How? What would his family think?  
  
His father had that morbid fascination for her. But his mother?   
His mother was the most important person in his life, and he was certain she’d be more than disappointed in him if he decided to willingly keep that type of company around.

Elowen would never fit in to his world.

Born with no name, no blood right, dressed in rags, possessing atrocious manners and an infamously ill temperament. The thought of having her for dinner with his family…  
It would be a catastrophe. He had no doubt plates would be thrown and something would probably explode.

He had long decided it was best to stay away from her.

The words left his mouth before he even realized.

“Come have lunch with your girlfriend Potter?” He butted loudly.

Neither acknowledged him. Regardless, the other Slytherins laughed at his comment. This only made Draco more determined to get under their skins.

"I can understand having your dog Weasley as your beating man, but isn’t it pathetic making your girlfriend fight your fights for you Potter?" He said referencing what had happened in Care for Magical Creatures the other day.

Last time Nel had met with Lupin he had advised her to try and see the best in people. Even in the worst ones. He had advised to try to be empathetic and think about what the other person could be going through. She guessed he felt that if she saw the world in a more positive light it might help come up with a Patronus worthy memory. However, when she thought of Malfoy… All she could see was a smug, spoiled thirteen-year-old. The boy had literally had everything and more in the world. He had absolutely no reason or excuse to act like such an arse all the time.   
  
In her eyes this made him disgusting.

“Sodd off Malfoy,” Harry shot him a glare before turning his attention to his friend.

“Wish you could’ve been at Hogsmeade Potter. The trip was a _blast!”_ He said mockingly inferring to the explosion. Nel stiffened at the mentioning of Hogsmeade. Of course, Harry knew what Malfoy was referring too. Hell, the whole school knew.

Harry was about to retort something clever but instead Nel’s wand beat him to it. That had been more than enough empathetic thinking for the day. The noodles in each of their plates came to life and leeched over the Slytherin boys’ heads pulling them down suffocating them in a plate with sauce and meatballs. She didn’t stick around to wait and see their reactions leaving just as fast.

“I’m sorry about them,” Harry apologized as he jogged outside of the Great Hall to catch up to his friend.

“Why should you be? It’s not your fault they were dropped on their heads when they were born.”

Harry would’ve laughed if her expression wasn’t so sullen.

“I don't think I have a memory strong enough to cast a Patronus,” she admitted regrettably.

“There has to be something, Nel,” he insisted positively. It had also been hard for Harry to summon a charm of his own. “But like Professor Lupin said, we have to be positive.”

Professor Lupin had said a lot of things…  
  
“Maybe there is…” She spoke half-heartedly. “But bad things have happened to the people in them. They’ve all left my life. The root of the memory itself might be good, but by association it has become bitter.” Almost as if a mist of fear and abonnement corrupted and poisoned her Patronus.

“Why don't we go make some memories then?” Harry suggested optimistically with a friendly smile. She eyed him cautiously. Her nature of being doubtful and wary of other people’s kind gestures almost made her think it was probably some kind of trick.

“Sure,” She said after a moment of hesitation. Afterall what was the worst thing that could happen?

The two decided to go and play with some Gobstones in the courtyard before going to Lupin’s and it was actually a pleasant time.

“Don’t get frustrated,” Lupin said to her as she failed to summon a Patronus yet again. “Be patient.”

“Be good. Make good memories,” he kindly reassured her with a small smile before giving her a chocolate bar.

Part of her felt that the professor was slowly conditioning her to like him with the chocolate bars he gave her. He was also unusually kind. He almost seemed to genuinely care about her and Harry unlike most of the other professors. She hated to admit it, but it was working, he was starting to grow on her.

Nel was more than frustrated still at-least now she was able to stop herself before she released that ominous corrupted orb that seemed to emit from her Patronus.

Harry couldn’t summon one which was refreshing considering everything seemed to come easy to him.

Lupin’s lessons had been slowly progressing at the pace of a snail. Snape’s were practically advancing at the same pace.

“I told you Saintday to empty yourself of emotion! Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked this easily — weak people, in other words — they stand no chance!” Snape instructed pointing his wand at her face from across his crowded office.

“Why do I have to do this?” She rasped as she looked at him with a wounded expression.   
  


The Potions Master had been attempting to pry into her mind in order to agitate her explosive emotions. She found it disturbing allowing him to witness all of the terrible things she had endured throughout her life. Maybe this was an emotional control training but Nel almost felt as if it was more as if he was almost preparing her for something bigger. It almost seemed personal to him.

“Next time you go off like a firecracker somebody could die because of your infantile emotions. You must tame yourself! Empty yourself or emotion. Do not allow me to penetrate your mind with such absurd ease.”

“Please… stop,” she pleaded lowering her head as she sank deeper into the uncomfortable desk chair that was across from him. Sweat stains stained her clothes as she attempted to compose herself.   
  
"Brace yourself." He warned.

It was then that she felt him enter her mind again. She winced as he witnessed all of her most vulnerable moments. Good days at the orphanage with Lucy, being locked in and crying and banging on the door of the laundry room to get out, cheering for Tracey at the Quidditch try outs, consoling her when she didn’t make it for the second year in a row, Malfoy tapping her shoulder making me turn around in the middle of Astronomy and pretending he wasn’t the one doing it. Hexing some Hufflepuffs that were bullying Bullstrode during dinner, the time Parkinson made her barf slugs in the middle of the Common Room. 

“Make me stop!” She could hear Snape’s voice in her head.

The vials I’m the room rattled threatening to explode before she let out a throaty scream as she for the first time managed to successfully slam the door of her thoughts on him. She was exhausted, completely drained, cold sweat beads sliding down her temple as she caught her breath.

“Sir… this is unhealthy… I’ll be good. I promise,” she begged him to stop these torturous lessons.

“If this will keep you from blowing up yourself and the school it’ll be worth it. You did well, some progress for once.”

Snape raised his wand and pointed it straight in between her eyes. It might’ve been some progress, but it was not enough for him. He had to do his best in teaching her how to close her mind from others. She had to be at least good enough to keep You-Know-Who-Out…

“Again.”

* * *

“Hey Saintday heard you-“ Pansy’s shrill commanding voice was interrupted when a yellow potion vial was thrown across the room and cracked open against her black bed post.

“Shut your beak Parkinson,” Nel said mindlessly not removing her eyes from the beanie she was attempting to knit. No matter how much she knit she was never very good at it. Maybe it was because she was usually distracted or trying to multitask which lead to most of her crafts having gaping holes or being wavy and uneven on the sides.

She didn’t even enjoy Pansy’s transformation into a large yellow canary.

“Will you two stop it?” Daphne snapped at the two girls looking up from a canvas she was currently painting on. “It is so annoying to see you two fight over the pettiest of things!” She huffed exasperated.

“You’re too sensitive,” Millicent said to Greengrass before helping the giant canary to Madame Pomfrey’s.

“Thanks Daph,” Tracey shot her a lopsided smile as she leafed through a Quidditch magazine.

“Can’t even concentrate with these two in the room,” she shot Nel a look before returning to her painting. The girl smirked slightly in her direction.

Like the past two years before, Elowen was to spend the Winter break and Christmas in the castle. She was hoping this would mean no more emotional control lessons with Professor Snape but boy was she wrong. Snape had instead cited her into his office every day to torture her with these painful lessons. He almost seemed to have an urgency in her mastering the subject. In her time with him she felt almost some empathy towards the older man. Why was he so bitter? Why was he so alone that he had nothing better to do but to educate her over the Christmas holiday? Maybe his loneliness had caused him to be this way.

It seemed like the only people that were staying over the break that Nel knew of were Harry and his friends.

Having a terrible headache and overall just being drained from working on her lessons all night Nel stayed in the Slytherin Common Room Christmas Eve. Loneliness had grown to be her only company. The dim green lights of the dormitory were soothing. It was unusually quiet, almost peaceful. That night Nel stayed up all night knitting one extra pair of black hand gloves. She later ventured into the kitchens to help herself to a Christmas leftover sandwhich.

The next morning, she awoke not expecting more than two Christmas gifts instead under the tree but instead there were a handful lot. Some chocolates from Professor Lupin, a chocolate frog from Harry, “The Tales of Beadle the Bard” from Theodore and a Quidditch t-shirt from Tracey's favorite team. Something Nel suspected she'd borrow often. Under the Christmas tree at the very end there was a small black box. No tag. It simply had her name written on it. She pulled the string that held it together and opened it to reveal the fancy black feathered quill she had been eyeing back at the shop in Hogsmeade. It came with a pack of violet ink and some parchment.

There was no way.

She eyed the quill curiously wondering if it was cursed.

There was only one other person that knew she had wanted this specific quill set. Nobody else knew. She hadn't mentioned it to another soul, but there was no absolute way. There _was no way in hell_ Malfoy had bothered to gift her something so thoughtful. Again, she wondered if it was from Professor Snape. Considering he had actually been inside of her head. This was just like the sweater from last year.

Later that same day Nel arrived to Professor Snape’s office ready for her lessons. She’d ask him if he had been the mysterious character behind this year’s quill and last year’s fine sweater.

Snape didn’t look or act as if it was Christmas day. He was dressed in his classic noir fashion hovering over some parchments he was grading. Nel couldn’t help but wonder if her professor did anything for Christmas or if he even received any gifts. Did he have parents? Or was he an orphan like her too?

“Professor, sir,” Nel stood before his desk rolling her weight on the balls of her feet. She held the humble gift behind her back. Slowly he raised his head simply acknowledging her.

"Happy Christmas, Professor, I made these for you," She offered the gift to him. He looked at the knitted material in her hands. Standing up he rounded around his desk and took them from her hands hesitation. Snape looked down at the knitted gloves he was holding and clutched them tightly. It was probably the worst gift he had ever received. They had many small holes and he was sure the finger spaces were too short on some odd ones. She might as well have given him a lump of trash.

The professor said nothing, he turned around and placed the ugly gloves on the desk and turned his back to her. Nel looked at the back of his dark head oddly.   
Did he hate them? She knew she wasn't the best knitter but a thank you would've been appreciated…

"It…" He grumbled, his voice sounding loud and heavy in the silence that the two shared. "It may not have escaped your notice Saintday, but life isn't fair." He spoke ominously.

She blinked twice confused by his words. “Sir?”   
  
Snape always knew more than he was letting on. Specially about Elowen Saintday…  
  
It hadn't been a coincidence that Dumbledore had asked him to escort her to Diagon Alley when she was first introduced to the Wizarding World. He had connected the dots and knew it wasn't a coincidence that her wand was composed of omens of death, that she could see Therstals, that she could speak to snakes.   
He knew what was to come and what would be expected of the girl and he was sure he hadn’t been the only one who had connected the dots.   
  
"Get out," he said quietly his fingers pressing into the edges of his desk.

She looked at him with innocent concern. "Professor Snape?" She prodded sounding almost concerned.

"Get out!" He roared in a dangerous tone that made the girl flinch and scrambled out of the room. It was almost as if her small gestured had triggered something in the man. She closed the door behind her and looked at the closed wooden door. Half of her was expecting to hear violent crashing noises but instead there was only silence. She made a mental note never to gift Professor Snape _anything_ ever again in her life. Specially gloves. Maybe Snape really was beyond reason.   
As she stood outside, she heard loud cackling. Looking up she saw Peeves translucent body levitating above her carrying buckets that seemed to swoosh with a dark foul smelling liquid. Smirking, having nothing better to do, she decided to follow after the poltergeist she felt a perverse fondness for.

* * *

A couple of weeks later the school term resumed and the Slytherin girl was happy to see her friends. She was also happy to know that most of their knitted gifts had turned out alright and fit their heads well. Tracey specially loved her since hers had been made with the yellow and blue colors of the Puddlemere United.

Of course, that meant that her main tormentor was back. She suspected Malfoy had given her the quill she was using in class yet said nothing to him. She didn’t have enough evidence and the thought was offsetting enough it. Besides, next time the coward should put his name on the tag.  
  
She didn’t know why he had decided he was in a mood in the middle of History of Magic. He had been passing notes to her in the middle of class. She never bothered opening of reading. However, as the class passed by and she refused to give him an ounce of attention his teasing evolved from note passing to throwing balled up parchments to the back of her head and eventually tapping her shoulder and pulling her hair.

“You did your hair different today Saintday, any particular reason why?” He leaned across his desk and whispered. Of course, he had noticed that today she was wearing her medium length hair on a low ponytail over her shoulder.

“So, you won’t pull at it you entitled prick,” she retorted through gritted teeth shooting him a nasty glare her patience growing from thin to nonexistent.

You’d think Professor Binns would notice the two students bickering in the back of the class. Even Granger shot them a look to quiet down since they were disturbing her learning. At some point during the class Nel became so fed up she turned and casted a bat-boogey hex on Malfoy which made monstrously green bats made out of mucus painfully fly out of his nose. The students in the room roared with laughter at the painful sight.

“Merlin, you’re unbearable Saintday!” he managed to speak in a nasal voice both of his hands were attempting to cover his nose.

Served him well for being a snotty prick. Whatever it was Malfoy had been planning on snapping with she wasn’t expecting what he said next.

“This is why your parents didn’t want you!”

His words were sharp and dropped making the room immediately grow silent. You could hear a pin drop as the laughter in the room ceased. The only voice in the background being Binns dull lecturing about who-even-cares what.   
  
Even the Slytherins sitting around him looked at him struck by the cruel comment. The only person laughing was Pansy Parkinson. Nel visibly recoiled at his spiteful words.

He had struck a low nerve.

  
Just in cue class was dismissed and she quickly exited the room before the tears could begin to sting her eyes.

Draco watched her back as she left the room before anybody could say or do anything for her. It was then that he felt someone shove him.

“What is your problem?” He was surprised to see Theodore Nott out of all people aggressively shove at him. “She has feelings you fucking arse.” He glowered at him, a chilly green-eyed glare before stalking off after his friend. Tracey shook her head and followed after him looking almost disturbed.

Even Blaise looked at Malfoy with uneasiness. Maybe he had crossed the line this time…

“Don’t pay any attention to Nott,” Pansy snorted as she reached Malfoy’s side. “You know he chases after her like some sort of lovesick puppy. I thought it was brilliant!” she said giddily before hugging his arm.

Daphne shook her head lightly and left. Millicent and Goyle exchange a look in the background.

Moments later Nel was exiting the Slytherin dormitory walking towards Lupin’s office to prepare herself for her evening lesson with him and Harry. Malfoy’s words still stirring in the back of her head. It was every orphan’s worst thought _being unwanted_. The two people who were supposed to unconditionally love and care for you – even they didn’t want you. It made her terrible fear of abandonment more real.

“Oi,” She heard the one voice she did not want to hear. “Saintday!”

She didn’t turn around. Instead she gripped her wand inside of her cloak’s pocket tighter and walked faster ignoring the person calling after her. She didn’t react until she felt a hand come down her shoulder.   
  
_“Dupulso!”_ She casted spinning on her heel.

Malfoy staggered and fell on his bottom from the impact of her spell.

“Elowen,” he managed to speak sorely before struggling back to his feet. She looked at him with distaste and wariness.

“Stay away from me!” She shouted at him cross once again before turning away. Regardless he persisted once again reaching for her arm.

“Don’t listen to a word I say,” he insisted.

He was conflicted. He hated himself for saying what he had said. The cruel words came out before he had even realized, but he was embarrassed, frustrated and beyond irritated. She wouldn’t even look his way; wouldn’t even read the notes he had been passing her way. Didn’t even realize he had been the one to gift her the quill set she was using.

She whipped her arm away from his touch and pointed directly at the wall behind him. _“Confrigo!”_ She casted purposely exploding a brick in the wall which created a small cavity on it. Malfoy ducked and covered his head looking at her with a shocked expression.

“Next time I won’t miss,” She threatened before turning around for the third time.

“Saintday,” again he attempted to reach her.

_“Flipendo,”_ She was fast in her casting and with that the boy was thrown against the opposite wall of the corridor where he painfully crashed and then pitifully slid down to the floor.

Her back was already to him as she continued in her trek. He didn’t have time. Especially when she wasn’t going to stick around and listen. Specailly not after he had behaved like an arse.  
  
“I want to tell you who it was.” He said loudly trying to get her to turn around and listen to him. “I don’t want to hear it or anything that comes out of your filthy mouth Malfoy!” She screamed. She turned and glared. “Never speak to me again,” she threatened.

“I didn’t lie to you,” He attempted to bargain for her time, for her attention.   
  
“No,” She agreed. “But you lied to everybody else!” She pressed on her threatening tone getting closer. “You made me look like an idiot- and you know what? I’m glad I blew up the Three Broomsticks. And I am especially glad I set _you_ on fire. I hope it hurt!” She spat sounding hurt. “And then today-“ She thought of what he had said to her. It had been so childish, so unnecessary. He saw her lower lip tremble before she swiftly turned in the opposite direction.

Nott’s words echoed in Draco’s head.

_“She has feelings you fucking arse.”_

It was probably the first time he had ever witnesses such a strong vulnerable emotion on her features. But how could he even apologize or even begin to explain to her why he felt the need to be such a complete jackass all the time?  
  
“I want to be friends,” he blurted. He eyed her fearfully dreading for the expected rejection to come.

She gave him a sour look before beginning to laugh at his words in disbelief. Okay. Maybe he did deserve that. “You sure have a funny way of showing it.”

“Elowen,” he pleaded in a hurt voice.

“No,” She spat in a cross tone pointing her wand at his face dangerously close. “You will _NOT_ call me by my name. You are _NOT_ my friend. I don’t want to ever hear my name come out of that disgusting mouth of yours!”

“Will you please listen to me?” He insisted getting closer.

She was ready to hex him. When her wand flew out of her hand.

“Not my Draco!” An unbearably familiar voice butted between the two of them. They both turned to see Pansy who was walking in the opposite direction of them. Neither had heard her enter the dungeon or even cast the _Expeliarmus._

“Have your girlfriend to fight your fights for you Malfoy?” She seethed in the anger that was beginning to boil in the pits of her stomach. Tossing an insult he had once tossed at Harry. Nel wanted to hurt them both. Especially Parkinson, but she couldn’t. She let out a low breath as she attempted to rid herself of these impulsive emotions just like Snape had taught her. What reason did Parkinson have to be so vile? Raw insecurity maybe? Who knows?

To her surprise Elowen actually gained control of her emotions. She calmly turned to face Parkinson and simply glared before her head began to swell into a balloon. She cried out and Bullstrode began escorting her to Madame Pomfrey’s.

Malfoy had her want in his hand and handed it to her. She snatched it out of his hand and shot him a dirty look before finally leaving.

* * *

Throughout the rest of the year Malfoy continued wanting to want to talk to her, but at this point Nel was completely disinterested in anything he had to say. Specially about whomever had abandoned her at the abbey. As he had said whoever had done this didn’t want her so why should she want them?  
  


His bipolar personality in which he would be nice to her one moment and then terribly rude the next, especially when the other Slytherin boys were around, didn’t help his case.

She wanted to plan and execute her terrible revenge, but Lupin had advised her no to. He was right, no matter what she did or didn’t do they wouldn’t stop. Her vengeance would be terribly sweet, but it wouldn’t make things right. Oh, but how long she longed to watch them suffer-  
She was learning to try something new, she was learning empathy, she was trying to understand why they were the way they were- However, today would not be the day. After all learning was a long process.

Nel sat in the Slytherin Common Room waiting for the Slytherin boys’ rude awakening. Moments later rivers of large toads and frogs came sliding down the staircase. They were big, small, some were green, and others were murky brown. They croaked and jumped to the carpet. Moments later Crabbe came running down pulling frogs out of his pants. The girl’s in the Common Room shrieked at the yucky grossness glaring in disgust. Blaise Zabini threw up. Malfoy walked down with a large frog on his blonde head as he descended down the stairs. It seemed like he had given up on getting the frogs out of his robes.

Theodore looked beyond irritated. Sadly he had been collateral damage.

She said nothing to them that morning but would often smugly ribbit at them and swell her cheeks when things were awfully quiet in the middle of class or in the common room. It had been weeks and the staff hadn’t figured out how to disenchant the plumping from pouring out amphibians instead of water. She had a feeling that Lupin knew but he didn’t have any proof.

That had been a couple of weeks ago.

Presently, Nel was in the back of the library doing some research about the history of the Patronus charm when somebody slid into the chair in front of her. She wasn’t taking any clients at the moment and with the year ending people were beginning to grow desperate for her services. She raised her wand ready to attack whomever disturbed but instead she found she couldn’t move her hand. A hand slapped over hers and pinned it against the desk roughly. Her eyes snapped up from the text she was reading to meet a pair of grey ones. 

“Will you quit being a knob head and listen to me for a second?”

It was Malfoy and he looked angry.

She didn’t know if he was angry because of the frogs that had been coming out of his enchanted bathroom for weeks or his frustration of being unable to communicate with her.

“Which one of your personalities do you want me to listen to? The one that’s an insufferable arsehole or the one that’s an arrogant son of a witch?” She challenged with a nasty look.

“Can you get your head of your arse for a moment,” he asked gruffly. He had been trying to have a conversation with her for months now and every time he got close he would get either embarrassingly hexed or tossed against a nearby wall.  
  
“Can you?” She shot back and pulled her hand back from his hand grip standing up and gathering her belongings.

“Elowen, please.”

That was it. He was on her last nerve. Sodd emotional control classes with Snape. She had been more than clear with him stating she didn’t want him near her.

“Stop calling me by my name Malfoy. Stop calling me at all! I already told you!” She slammed her books on the table angrily. “You are vile, and despicable and like to humiliate others because you are so small and insignificant it makes you feel better about your sad and pitiful life! You think you’re all that because you can trace your family back a couple of generations. Big deal! Whoop-de-doo. Congratulations. But guess what? _Nobody_ cares you freakishly albino inbreed!”

She snapped angrily almost spitting fire in his direction.  
Malfoy was stunned, he had never seen such an angry look in her eyes, her neck so red from the word vomit she had just hatefully spewed at him. He thought she was going to stop there but she didn’t.   
  
“Your head is so damn big I sometimes wonder if it’s so swelled up because of your massive ego or because it is filled with air! Yeah- maybe you do have a fancy name and more money than I will ever have, but what’s the use of it if it can’t buy you any manners.”

Nel caught her breath and leaned her weight on the desk. Her shoulders slumped slightly. She couldn’t believe she had said such horrible things to him. So much for her emotional control lessons. On the brightside nothing had exploded this time. She looked away from him not wanting to meet his hurt eyes. He looked pale, almost sick. It almost looked like he could have cried. She caught her breath and looked at him with hard eyes.

“Leave me alone,” she whispered hauntingly before leaving Draco alone in the library, just as Madame Pince was rounding about to ask the students to leave her library from the loud outburst. 

He knew she was never going to listen to him. She had given him no choice.

“It was Black,” he burst making her stop. “It was Sirius Black, that left you in the abbey that night.”

Not turning around she continued on her way back to the dormitory brewing on the name she hadn’t been expecting. Her heart hammering in her chest. Eyes wide in horror at the revelation.


	14. Chapter 14

Maybe it was the wild dark eyes. Maybe it was the way his face was fixed in a wickedly malicious sneer. Maybe it was the dark untamed features or the sallow gaunt face. Nel couldn't put her finger on what resemblance she had to infamous serial killer, Sirius Black.

She guessed they looked a little alike, but not enough to actually look like relatives. She frowned at the portrait she had been looking at that was printed in the back of the _Daily Prophet_ under a WANTED sign.

"Quit it Nel," Tracey said snatching the newspaper out of her hands and putting it away. "Stop fixing on Black. He's _not_ your dad."

She looked down at her dinner feeling a little sick.   
  
"But what if he is?" She asked with a deep sadness in her eyes. Of course, if anybody would be related to a serial murdered it would be her. Why couldn't her parents have been just normal folk? She looked at Tracey with envy why couldn't her father had been a Quidditch commentator? Or why couldn't she know for certain if they were dead like Theo's mother?

"She's got a point," Theo said before taking a bite of a jammed bread roll.

"If he is, he is! Big deal!" Tracey said trying to appease her concerned friend. "Enough talk about Black for now- Onto more important things!" She slapped a colorful poster that read "1994 Quidditch World Cup finals." and had dozens of colorful flag banners and athletes flying with brooms.  
  
"We _have_ to go." Tracey asked brown eyes shining with excitement. She slammed her fists on the table eagerly. “My money’s on Transylvania this year!”

Theodore and Nel exchanged a look. As if it were so easy to just waltz into the Quidditch World Cup and get some seats. It might as well be impossible. Not to mention Nel would just be locked up and kept hostage in the laundry room all holiday long.

"How?" Theodore asked with a suspicious expression.   
  
"I'll see if my dad can get us some tickets! You'll definitely come Theo! And Nel I'm breaking you out of that forsaken place! I don't care if I get taken to Azkaban. It'll be the three of us!" She said excitedly.

Both nodded to each other. Maybe Mr. Davis had higher up connections that could get them a good deal. Nel's stingy nature hoped it would be for free or at least cheap.

"Get the tickets first and then we'll talk Trace," Elowen smiled at her finally taking a final forkful of green beans.  
  


"Well, I'm off," she stood up and rudely stretched before swinging her bag over her shoulder. "Lessons with Snape?" Theo asked mindlessly.

She shrugged. "They've been going alright. I mean no one's blown up as of the late." _Not unintentionally at least._ And that was something!

Elowen descended to the dungeons to make way to Professor Snape's office when instead she bumped into him in the corridor. He was holding what looked to be a large bottle of wine in his hands.

"Come with me Saintday," He simply structed without stopping. Nel didn’t' question him simply followed after the Potion Master. "Where are we going Sir?" She asked walking behind the man.   
"A favor for Professor Lupin," he simply stated ominously in his typical Snape fashion.

When the two reached Lupin's all the way in the East Tower they were surprised to see the door was ajar. Stepping in curiously Snape placed the potion down on his desk. Nel walked around nosily, her sticky fingers looking for some chocolate she knew Lupin usually kept around his desk. She knew he wouldn't mind. Nel rounded around his desk as Snape looked over some empty vials on a table nearby. When her eyes landed on something most curious. There was some type of map open on his desk. The map had dots were labeled with the names of people in the castle.

It wasn't the map in particular that caught her attention but the name on it: _Sirius Black._

She picked up the map in shock and looked at the moving dots. It looked like they were out by the Whomping Willow. Sirius _Black, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley_ and a name she had never heard before _Peter Pettigrew. Remus Lupin_ was rapidly approaching them.   
  
She could barely react when Snape snatched the map out of her hands. She was about to protest but the look on his face was just as aghast as hers. His permanent scowl deepened.

"Stay here," he ordered harshly pulling his wand out of his sleeve.

"Professor!" She was about to make a run for the door, but Snape beat her to it slamming it behind as he exited successfully locking her in the office with no escape.

“No!” She shouted banging her fists against the door loudly. Crying for the Professor or anyone to let her out.

_“Alohomora!”_ She casted at the door handle but it was useless. Nothing happened after the faint glow faded. Darn. He must have charmed it.

“I know it was him!” She shouted. “Who left me at the abbey!” She banged again. Breath hitching. There was no response. She looked around the room that seemed to be becoming smaller and smaller with each passing moment. Sometimes it looked like Wool’s laundry room. She wasn’t sure if her mind was playing tricks on her or not. Flashes came and went. Her small bed was in the spot of Lupin’s desk. The bookshelf was the laundry machine. A pile of books a pile of clothes both interexchange able. She felt a strong pressure on her chest, her breathing becoming shallow.

_Calm down._ She thought to herself. Hands shaking. _Calm down._

_Empty yourself of emotions. Empty yourself of emotions._ She leaned on the door and slid down it hugging her knees close to her person. Repeating Snape’s words in her head over and over again. She could hear the window’s glass lightly rattling as her anxiety began to seize her. She took in a deep heavy breath and held it.   
  
She wasn’t at Wool’s.  
  
She wasn’t locked in forever.   
  
Snape would be back for her.   
  
He wouldn’t leave her here.

Or would he?

What if something happened to him? Afterall he was going to confront a serial murderer. What if he never came back? Worst of all had he abandoned her like everyone else? What if they never found her? Nel didn’t know how much time passed since she had been lock in Lupin’s office.

She was again banging on the door calling for help, her throat sore from screaming so loud. Tears brimmed the edges of her eyes.

All she wanted to do was talk to Sirius Black. Just a conversation. She just had one question to ask him. Could they at least grant her that before they sent him back to Azkaban?

Her hands were bruised from banging. But she couldn’t give up. She had to find a way out of here. She turned eyeing the window uneasily. Maybe… She could break it and somehow _Wingardium Leviosa_ her way out?

A familiar loud laughter echoed the corridor and approached the door of Lupin’s office. “Looney, loopy, Lupin!” The loud voice sand over and over again before a wide Chesire cat-like grin phased through the door.

“No, Lupin here,” He cackled. “Just a sad Spotted Cod,” he looked down at the Slytherin girl with terrifying unblinking eyes and a broad grin on his face. She didn’t appreciate the fact Peeves had just compared her to a fish, but then again, she had been called worse. “I take full offense to that,” she said dully as she wiped her nose with her sleeve.

“You gone blow up Looney Lupin’s office?” He turned levitating midair making his head spin 180 degrees so that he was looking at her upside down. Peeves never listened to anyone other than the Bloody Baron or maybe Dumbledore. But he did have a spot for students that seemed to share his passion for creating chaos and spreading good humor as well as malice. There was something rotten about this one, he could tell.

“No,” She said looking up to him. “Snape locked me in here. He’s gone after Sirius Black. I need to get to Black. Talk to him before they send him back to Azkaban. He might be my father...” She explained standing up dusting her clothes off.

The poltergeist couldn’t help but laugh as if she had just said the funniest joke he’d heard in his ghost life. He clutched his stomach and spun midair.

“Nasty temper he’s got, that Sirius Black,” he retorted with a loud raspberry. “I can see the family resemblance.” He said turning his body around, so he was levitating in his translucent red and orange body before her. “Hate to break it to ya _Freakles_ , but that Sirius Black ain’t going to be taken back to ‘Zkaban,” He clicked his tongue before giggling loudly with glee, “He’s going to pucker up to the Dementors, and you know what that means!” Again, he laughed loudly with wickedness while clapping his hands excitedly.

Feeling defeated Nel dropped her body on top of the large brown trunk that was in the room. It was useless she was never going to reach Black in time.

“How ‘bout this Spots,” Peeves got terribly close to her. So close she thought his unblinking dark eyes were staring into her soul. “An eye for an eye. I let you out of here and you’ll do my bidding, huh?”

The slightest of smirks made way to Nel’s face as her mischievous nature showed. She raised her hand and winked at the poltergeist before giving him a thumbs up. She had a feeling she would regret whatever it was she had just agreed to, but for now it’ll do. “You’ve got yourself a deal Peevesy.”  
  
The Poltergeist shrieked in excitement before doing a backflip. “Easy,” He laughed, and she felt him pull the fabric of her sweatshirt forward tossing her roughly against the bookshelf which spun several times revealing a secret passageway. She clung to the spinning bookshelf for life. Peeves madly cackling at the fearful look on her face as she looked down an empty chute.

“Good luck,” He flicked her forehead making her tumbledown and slide headfirst down the concrete chute. She screamed madly in the darkness until there was light. Eyes wide she starred at her familiar surroundings. Shelves of books, dust and wood. The library of course. The secret passageway ended at the end of the library and she came spilling out from behind a portrait that opened like a door and made her messily tumble down to the dark wooden floor.

She lay on the floor catching her breath eyeing the many portraits above. She lay there for a miserable moment. Wondering just how many more hidden passages there were in the castle.

“Ow…” She moaned out in pain as she pathetically lay sprawled out on the floor.

“Shhh!!!” The many portraits in the library looked down at her and shushed her with angry eyes. Half of the portraits had been rudely awakened by her impromptu entrance.

Still laying on the ground she flicked off the portraits which gaped at her rudeness. She didn’t stick around to hear what they had to say before dusting herself off for the second time and running out of the library. She was about to storm out when she heard Snape’s nasal voice echoing the corridor. Peeking through the door she saw the three figures. Two walking. One levitating. She noted that Professor Lupin was nowhere to be found, neither were Harry, Hermione or Ron.

Professor Snape and Dumbledore walked speaking amongst themselves. Sirius Black looked beaten and was unconscious being levitated behind the other two men. 

“Take him to the topmost cell of the Dark Tower Severus,” Dumbledore instructed.

That was right outside of Flitwick’s office by the West Tower. Right out by the courtyard. Nel leaned forward slightly making the wooden door creak. She froze and Snape’s eyes looked around the corridor scanning for the intruder. She could’ve sworn he could sense she was there.

“The Ministry of Magic will be here in the morning. The Dementors will be prepared for the kiss.” The Headmaster added.

Nel needed to get up there and fast. But the stairs were not an option. Knowing Snape, he’d probably hex them so no student could get up there. She had to fly there, and she had to be fast. She was a decent flyer, but she wasn’t the best in her class.

_Tracey._

Elowen rushed back to the Slytherin dormitory in the middle of the night, loudly stomping as she walked into the girl’s dormitory.

“Tracey!” She shook her groggy friend awake with a loud hiss that made Millicent stir in her sleep. Her cat shot the two girls an irritated yellow eyed glare. “Tracey!” She hissed again shaking her shoulder.

Tracey stood up groggily and looked at her friend confused. “What time is it?” She asked rubbing her eyes sitting up, the blankets falling off her body to reveal her navy blue and yellow colored pajama. “What is it?”

“I need your help,” she asked in a hushed whisper. “I need you to fly me to the Dark Tower’s courtyard so that I can talk to Sirius Black.”

_“Sirius B-“_ Nel clamped a hand over her mouth. _“Shh!!!”_ She looked over her shoulder to see that all of their dorm mates were still thankfully asleep.   
“Get dressed. We need to go now, and we need to be fast. We can’t let anyone see us or the Dementors catch us.”

“Woah, woah, woah…” Tracey climbed out of her bed. “I can’t take you there,” she said after pondering on a thought for a moment. Her mind still processing the fact that Sirius Black was in the castle and locked in the highest tower of Hogwarts.

“What? Why not?” Nel hissed back impatiently as she was already making her way out of the room. “I’m not fast enough,” She admitted. “Besides we’ll need something faster than my Comet 260,” she said referring to her broom. Tracey crossed her arms for a moment and shot her friend a knowing look. “You need a Seeker, which I am not.” The Keeper said. “And one with a fast broom.”

“I’ll go get Potter!” She said a little louder than intended which made Pansy snort instinctively in her sleep.

“Yeah? And how are you going to get into the Gryffindor Common Room?” Tracey said raising her brows at her friend grabbing her hand in hers and dragging her out of the girls’ dormitory. “I’ll figure it out somehow,” Nel said racking her brain for any other possible entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room. She always did. Maybe she could convince Peeves to help her find another way in.

“You need to ask Malfoy,” Tracey said once they reached the emerald Common Room. Elowen stopped in her tracks and looked at her incredulously. “You’re kidding…” She said looking at her friend with dismay.

“He’s a great flyer, he’s fast, he’s got a Nimbus 2001 and best of all he’s right across the Common Room,” She said dragging her to the boy’s dormitory area. Girls weren’t allowed in there, so they dropped their voices as they tiptoed past the first and second-years’ dormitories. “What makes you think he’ll even listen to me?”

“We’ll make him,” Tracey grinned with a determined smile before whipping out her wand and entering the boy’s dormitory. Sometimes Nel forgot why Tracey was her best friend. It was moments like this that reminded her just _why_.

They were immediately greeted by Goyle’s loud snoring. Crabbe was sleeping on his side drooling. He looked angry when he slept almost as if he was chasing a donut in his dreams. Theodore was calmly breathing in his sleep and so was Blaise.

There he was.

The two girls spotted him at the end of the dormitory sleeping under the black wood canopy bed frame. His blonde head of hair poking out of the emerald green bed covers. Tracey lead the way holding a dim _Lumos_ in the tip of her wand. Nel clutched her arm tightly as she tripped over one of Zabini’s fancy shoes making her loudly stumble. “Shh!!” Her friend hissed at her.

Both girls stood on either side of his bed looking at the sleeping boy for a moment. He almost looked like a completely different person in his sleep. Less angry, maybe like a less abrasive person overall.

“Wake him up,” Tracey hissed nodding her head towards him.

“Me? No, you wake him,” The other girl shot back doing the same head motion.  
  


“You’re the one that needs him to take you to the tower.”

“But this was your idea!”

“Do you want to reach the top of the tower or not?”  
“What if I just fly there alone?” Nel suggested knotting her eyebrows.  
“We’re already here!” Tracey snapped loudly.

Both were so busy bickering they didn’t realize the sleeping boy groggily awoke to the bright light on his face. He blinked twice and saw two glowing faces. “Saintd-“ There was a horrified look on his face as a hand was slapped over his mouth roughly. He struggled an attempted to shout.

“Shh!!!” Nel hissed loudly pressing both of her hands against his mouth pushing him back to his pillow half climbing on the bed.

_“Silencio!”_ Tracey casted silencing the loud boy before anybody else woke up.

Nel removed herself from him and began explaining. “I need your help,” She said. Both girls heard Nott twitch from his bed and turned for a moment. “I need you to fly me somewhere,” She explained in a rushed hush. The clock was ticking. He sat up and both girls noted he was of course wearing a matching set of black satin pajamas. He looked beyond confused his grey eyes darting between the two of them. Nel reached over to a black sweater that was neatly folded next to his nightstand. “Get dressed,” She instructed tossing it in his direction. Without another word the two girls returned to the Common Room.

“He’s not going to do it,” Nel paced around the room anxiously.

Tracey now looked at her with concern. “If he doesn’t show… I’ll take you,” Tracey offered as a last resort.   
  


“Forget it. I’ll just fly myself.”  
  
“And face a serial murderer by yourself?” Tracey gaped. She wouldn’t stand a chance if Black tried anything!

“You’re _what?”_ A third voice butted in an incredulous tone.

Both girls turned to look at Draco who was rubbing his tired eyes standing in the stair entrance of the boys’ dormitory. He had changed into a black sweater and matching pants. A black bomber jacket was draped over his arm. How long had he been standing there listening?  
  
 _Of course,_ he had completely changed into his nicest clothes. God he was such a peacock.   
  
Now Nel wished she had changed she was simply wearing a pair of old jeans and a dark grey sweatshirt and dirty sneakers that used to be white.

Both girls sighed and took a moment to quickly explain just what they were up to.

“You’ve officially lost your mind Saintday!” He said eyes wide in disbelief at what he had just heard.

“Fine then!” She snapped with a cross look on her face. She knew he’d be of no help. “I’ll just go by myself,” She said getting ready to exit the room.

“Wait! Nel!” Tracey called after her.

Elowen felt a pull hold her back. She turned in surprise to see Draco holding her arm back. He had a aggravated look on his face. “You’re a lunatic. Facing Black like that on your own,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes at her. “I won’t let you.”

She pulled out her wand ready to jinx his grip off her.

“Which is why I’m coming with you.”

She immediately lowered her wand. Eyes wide in disbelief. Even Tracey looked shocked at his easy willingness to go.   
  
“We’d be breaking about a thousand school rules,” He let go of her arm and scratched his chin apprehensively. “I’m the one that told you about Black. I’d feel an awful amount of guilt if anything happened to you.”

Nel and Tracey exchanged a look. It seemed like both of them had the same thought running through their minds.

_What the frick?_

  
To be fair, he wasn’t wrong.

  
So, Draco Malfoy did have a conscience after all. Who would’ve thought?

“Besides,” He crossed his arms over his chest defensively at the look the two girls had just exchanged. “I really _am_ the best flyer in the school,” He added pompously.

Nel rolled her eyes at his added comment and made way out of the room. She really didn’t care about anything he had to say outside of this mission. Tracey let out a small chuckle standing behind him her arms crossed in a similar position.

“Awe,” She coed with a teasing smile. “It almost sounds like you care Malfoy!”

“Watch it Davis,” Draco shot back with a warning look that was meant to silence her before following Nel out of the Common Room.

“Goodluck!” Tracey shouted after the two wishing them well.

* * *

“Believe me, I would’ve asked anybody else if I could,” Nel sighed irritated as the two made way out of the dungeon and headed towards the Quidditch pitch were Quidditch players kept their brooms.

He was about to respond when he saw Filch taking a turn. “Filch!” He warned and pulled her behind a crouching statue of a three eyed witch. He kept a hand on her mouth and spat something about a _‘grimy Squib._ ’   
Both hid waiting for Filch and his red-eyed cat to pass by. It took a moment for Filch to pass and Nel removed Malfoy’s hand from her mouth.   
  
“Was that really necessary?” She glared as the two continued on their trek.   
  
“Like I said, I would’ve done this myself or asked anyone else. But I need to be in and out of there fast.”

“Maybe you wanted to actually hang out with me,” He suggested arrogantly.

The corner of her eye twitched in irritation and she shot him yet another hostile glare. “It was Tracey’s idea to ask you, not mine.”

“Why can’t you just admit that you don’t find me as unbearable as you think you do?”

“Because you’re a git,” She said with a jaded look on her face before whipping out her wand and opening the broom storage in the Quidditch pitch. Inside she gasped jumping back about a foot when she realized there was somebody already inside.   
She hid behind Malfoy clutching his arm tightly as she peered over suddenly feeling foolish that she had been started by a ghost, but he wasn’t an ancient ghost like the rest of the lot he was a Hogwarts student, or at least seemed to be.  
  
“Simon,” Draco acknowledged casually before reaching for his black broom and calmly walking out of the storage. Nel eyed the ghost with curiosity she couldn’t tell what color his robes had been in a past life.

“Lost something _whoozy?”_ He shot in a snarky tone before vanishing into a wall.

“Who was that?” She asked curiously ignoring the insult.

“Sulking Simon. Hufflepuff died a couple of years ago. Some say it was a Quidditch accident, others say there was _more_ to it,” he said ominously. He looked at her stunned expression and laughed a little.

_‘Students actually died at Hogwarts?’_

“Get on,” She heard Malfoy say in what abounded like an irritated tone. She snapped out of her thoughts and realized he was looking at her expectantly as he was already mounted on his broom.

She decided there was no more time to lose and climbed on the broom behind him placing her hands on his shoulders lightly holding the fabric of his dark jacket.

  
“Hold on.”

“I _am_ holding on.” She said impatiently. She felt his body move as he got ready to fly. “I’ve got a feeling I’m going to regret _thiiiiiiiiis!”_ She let out a shriek as his broom flew up into the night sky. Her body was jerked backward due to the force of the lift off and she scrambled to wrap her arms tightly around his torso and lock her knees around the broomstick.

Wind whooshed past them and through the blur she could see the two were zig zagging and whooshing several Dementors that surrounded the castle. At some point the two were flipped upside down. She held on for dear life burying her face in the back of his shoulder shutting her eyes tightly trying her best to keep quiet.

Peeking over she looked down at the ground and instead of marveling at the stunning sight of the castle felt nauseous by the height. How did Quidditch players do this all the time?  
  
She didn’t want to let go and clung tightly to his body. Draco felt his breath a little constricted from the strong grip around him.

“You can let go now,” She heard his amused voice vibrate through his back. Heart hammering in her chest from the adrenaline she slowly lowered her feet relieved to feel the concrete ground underneath her soles. They had arrived at the Dark Tower’s Courtyard. The tower was a couple of feet away and she could see the metal bars through which she assumed Black was behind.

She didn’t apologize when she let go of him simply mumbling a “Thanks,” dismissing him, praying he wouldn’t the embarrassing pink glow to her face.

Again, he shook his head at her slightly before flying out of her sight.

_‘Good riddance’_ she thought to herself before facing Black’s direction. Nervous, fearful alone and with a shaking breath she walked towards the cell ready to face the murder.

Sirius Black had killed thirteen Muggles with one curse. He had blown up an entire street. Another thing the two of them had in common, a fan fare for chaotic explosions. She thought about the crazed look on his face that had been printed on the pages of The Daily Prophet.

However, when she reached the bars, she saw a completely different person. There was a thin man with sallow skin miserably sitting on the ground leaning against the wall with a wretched look on his face. She sucked in a breath of surprise and his dark eyes snapped to look at her surprised ones. His prison uniform clothes were tattered, body tattooed with markings and hair was greasy, long and tangled. He looked and smelled like he could have fleas.

He looked at her for a moment just as surprised. In a moment of faint recognition his hazy memory identified the mark on her face, the constellation of dotted freckles. Unmistakable.

“It’s you,” He acknowledged his voice rasping, yet he didn’t move.

Of course, he remembered her. How could he forget?

“Did you…” She had rehearsed this question in her head for days, hundreds and countless of times. Yet she seemed to be choking on the words, stuttering and spluttering as she managed to spit out the incoherent sentence in one long trembling breath. “You… me… the abbey.”

He could see the edges of her hands slightly shaking. Despite her incoherent sentence he understood.

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice low.

He never thought this moment would come. That he would encounter the poor child he had left at the abbey on that horrible night.

“Why…” She choked on her cracking voice. Her shaking become more obvious, bottom lip trembling. _“Dad.”_

Sirius Black stood up, groaning painfully as he did and stepped towards the child. She didn’t step back simply starred with wide glassy eyes. He looked at the child with sympathy. He still remembered when he took her from that horrid place, saved her from her horrid destiny.

“I’m not your father kid.”

Startled she looked at him with a bewildered expression. The words were a blow to her. A part of her wanted him to be it. It would’ve made her life easier. It would’ve been easier to have a name and face to hate rather than to take out her abandonment issues and glaring emotions at the world.  
  
“I saved you,” Sirius began. He licked his cracked lips and his gaze lowered to the ground at the painful memory.

Elowen was even more struck by this. Sirius Black, serial murderer, had, _saved_ her? Whatever revelation she had been expecting to happen, to reveal itself to her, it had not been this.

“I took you from a bad place,” He paused. “Where bad people wanted to do very bad things to you,” he explained as lightly as he could, his voice soft as he did.

He took her from a place. A bad place? What did he consider to be a _bad place?_ It was his fault she ended up at Wool’s. No place could be worse than that orphanage. And why was he speaking to her like as if she were a toddler? Why couldn’t he properly explain what he had done?!

“Horrible things were done to you child. My original mission was to kill you, but I couldn’t bring myself to. You were innocent… Just a child, still are.”

The grip on her want became tight and her jaw clenched at the revelation.

“From who? From where?” She managed to speak coherently words still angrily stumbling upon each other. “Why did you take me away from my family?!” She demanded to know, her eyebrows knotting into a furious scowl.

She could feel her emotions beginning to boil, to make her head pound and her blood grow hot. She was so distraught she didn’t even notice Harry and Hermione had landed on the back of a hippogriff just a couple of feet away.

“You stole _me!_ _You stole my life!”_ She screeched heatedly her voice breaking.

She could feel nothing but hatred for the man. How many times had she wondered what it would’ve been like to grow up with a normal family? To have a mother and a father. To not be stuck in that hell house that was Wool’s. To have people unwaveringly care and love you. She was hurt. She hunched over slightly at the hurt she felt from the revelation. It was this man’s fault she had no name, no family, no upbringing, no nothing.

She wanted to hurt Sirius Black. She wanted to kill the wasted man before her.

“No, that’s not,” Sirius spoke carefully attempting to explain.   
  
“Nel!” Harry and Hermione shouted in unison as they approached her. Both just as stunned to find the Slytherin girl in the Courtyard of the Dark Tower. “Don’t do it!” Granger pleaded. “It’s not what you think!” Harry added.

They saw the crazed look in her eyes. She was livid. Snape’s words of keeping her emotions under wraps weren’t enough to aid the hot head in her second melt down of the day. She kept the weapon pointed at Black’s face who stood unwavering to her intimidation. She could feel the anger escalating, her heart beating faster, the pounding in her head becoming stronger. Gritting her teeth, she turned away from Black and stretched her arm up letting out an agonizing scream.

Everyone gaped in horror as from the tip of her wand erupted dozens of small birds. All surrounded by that obsidian violet dark light that seemed to make the space grow cold, giving them all a spitefully ill feeling.

_Nightjars._

_Corpse fowl._ There’s an English myth that its bad luck to see a Nightjar. If one hears its croaking at night odds are the person will never forget its cry.

Yet, another omen of death.

The birds roosted and together merged into larger shapes which resembled dementors. She looked at them in terror, her stomach sinking at the corrupted Patronus she had created.

She braced herself for the Dementors she had created to attack her and the others when a glowing regal stag brought light into the space. It leapt gracefully sending the dark creatures to scurry away. It was beautiful. It took her breath away it was the most stunning charm she had ever seen.

Harry’s Patronus.

He’d done it.

She lowered her eyes and wand towards Harry. She couldn’t help but envy the boy. He’d done it. He’d produced a pure guardian made of joy, light, love and goodness while she had summoned those repulsive dark creatures instead.

“I know why you’re here and I won’t let you set him free!” She exclaimed spreading out her stance to an offensive stance. She didn’t think Harry or Hermione would actually hex her. If she had maybe she would’ve been ready to deflect the attack.

_“Stupefy!”_

She didn’t even see it coming when Granger stunned her. Harry reached forward for his friend. Elowen stumbled back but didn’t hit the floor instead she was barely caught before collapsing.

The two Gryffindors stood visibly when a dark figured seized her. It was Malfoy. Out of all people, he flew down the night sky and managed to stop the fall. The Slytherin had never left. He had lingered nearby his grey eyes prying and witnessing the horrible scene from a safe distance.

Granger kept her wand raised, grimace on her soft features, she didn’t need a reason to hex him, but weren’t him and Saintday sworn enemies?

“Malfoy!” Harry sneered when he saw him catching the stunned girl in his arms. Draco’s eyes shifted to the prisoner of Azkaban who was witnessing the scene with a deep sense of puzzlement.

“Don’t meddle,” Potter threatened menacingly.

“I don’t care if you get yourself killed or not by dealing with a mass murderer,” he spat venomously. It really wasn’t his business.   
Malfoy might have been a coward, but he wasn’t stupid. As far as he knew Black only killed muggles. He was also his mother’s estranged cousin. As dangerous as he was deemed to be, he knew he wouldn’t dare lay a finger on him. He shot Potter and Granger a daggering glare. His wand still pointed in their direction. “Not a word of this Potter,” he threatened hoisting up the girl to sit before him on his broom, she unconsciously groaned at the movement. “Granger,” he simply acknowledged raising his brows in her direction.

It was a silent agreement. Neither had been there. After all, if anyone croaked, they were all equally royally screwed, they would all be accomplices in this crime.

Without another word he flew up to the Astronomy Tower. He couldn’t just waltz into the Slytherin dormitories carrying the unconscious girl and his broom. It was best to wait for her to regain consciousness.

Draco sat on the floor of the Astronomy Tower for some time. He looked up and saw that stupid hippogriff that had struck him during that oaf Hagrid’s class fly into the horizon vanishing into the full moon night with Black on his back. He cursed under his breath, resting his weight on a propped elbow on his knee.

He sat feeling both angry, frustrated and maybe a little scared. What had been those horrible things that came out of Elowen’s wand? The feeling he got looking at those evil birds. It was the same feeling that came over him and the others when they were in the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of the year. It had been cold, numbing, sad and whatever had happened with Black- he had caught snippets of it. It was just as much as he had overheard his father say.

_“There must be a reason why he took the girl”  
  
“Lunatics don’t have reason,” His father had responded. “I’m sure it’s her. She’s a Parselmouth bearing the cursed mark on her face.”  
  
“Where had she been all this time?”  
  
“Hidden in a filthy muggle orphanage.” He had said with terrible distaste. “Revolting.”_

The conversation stopped the moment he had walked into the room. He leaned over slightly trying to get a better look at the assemblance of moles on her face. The stray hairs and bangs hiding her face made it hard to see its full shape. He couldn’t place his finger on what it looked like, but he had definitely seen that array of dots somewhere before.

She stirred slightly and he composed himself appearing disinterested pretending to be fascinated by a ring his mother had gifted him.

Groaning, still half in a stunned dazed she opened her tired eyes and took in her strange surroundings before realizing where she was. The Astronomy Tower. The first thing she could register was the remarkable sharp scent of cologne. That fresh scent with bergamot and pepper. It smelled just like Malfoy. Hard not to notice him walking into a room with that stench announcing his arrival. Feeling behind her head she turned and realized her head was resting on his bundled-up jacket.

He was sitting a couple of feet away from her.

Slowly with a terrible fading headache she sat up holding her temple, jacket still at hand. The events that had transpired sinking into her consciousness.

Draco said nothing simply stretched a hand handing her wand to her. She took it keeping her gaze lowered. She eyed the wand in her hand looking at the pale wood and suddenly it didn’t feel the comforting sensation it was supposed to bring. Being magical almost felt like a curse.   
She could still remember, could still feel the horrible emotions she felt when she released all of those hideous birds into the night. All that pent-up anger. For Merlin’s sake she could’ve killed.   
And Harry, perfect Harry, the Chosen One, the good one, he had casted the most beautiful charm she had ever seen. And he wasn’t even good at charms which only made her more resentful and envious.  
  
In a sudden fit of frustration, she angrily tossed the wand against the opposite wall of the tower.

“He got away, didn’t he?” 

Malfoy nodded in silence.

Of course. Potter and Granger. She still couldn’t believe Hermione had hexed her. Who would’ve thought? Goody-two-shoes, insufferable-know-it-all-Granger had it in her. And for Harry to stand idly by and do nothing?

Sirius Black was the only person that had answers, and he had gotten away never to be seen again. The last clue, the last strand that tied her to her past was forever gone. She felt the hot tears begin to burn in her eyes and sharply wiped a runaway quickly before Malfoy could notice.

“He stole me,” She spat. “He ruined my life.” Her voice broke, eyes shutting tightly. She held on to the jacket in her hands tightly just needing to hold on to something. She didn’t know that Draco had been standing by, careful not to be noticed, ready to swoop in if anything were to happen to her. He had witnessed the horrifying thing that came out of her wand, heard the things Black had said to her. He didn’t think he had ever met someone who was bottling up so much pain and anger.

“Here’s your jacket, thanks,” She said in a high-pitched tone rudely tossing it in his direction. Hoping he’d go away. Hoping she could hold in the tears for just a moment longer. Not wanting to witness his judging gaze she brought her knees to her chest and hugged them hiding her face in them as the fat tears came streaming down like rivers.

She heard his fabric shifting and heard his footsteps moving away. She held her breath as he left. There was no sound. He was gone.

_Wrong._ She stiffened when she felt a comforting weight down on her shoulders. 

It was his jacket.   
  


Again, she could hear him moving but this time he sat next to her on the ground not saying anything. He couldn’t see her face; a curtain of dark hair hid her tears away from him.

This… It was just like that Christmas. Except it was cold, it was ugly, it was real.

She cried until she was hiccupping finding it hard to breath.

“You need to stop,” Draco finally broke the silence more out of concern than urgency. His voice wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t hard either. His words weren’t consoling but his presence somehow was. She had almost forgotten he had been sitting next to her this whole time. How mortifying. Peeking through her hair she pushed it back and wiped her wet face and snot away messily with her sleeve. He was right. She needed to stop. She needed to compose yourself.

_‘Control your emotions’_ Professor Snape’s harsh voice echoed in her head.

“It’s so hard,” she cried weakly as the dawn broke before them. Had they really been up all night?

He had no clue just what she was specifically she was referring to. His father had always made sure to remind him that life, was in fact, not east. He stood up and stretched a hand offering to help her up. “Let’s get out of here,” he offered.   
  
With some hesitation she took it rising to her feet.  
She tried meeting his gaze but noted he looked away from rosy swollen face.

To him it almost felt invasive to stare at his adversary in her most vulnerable moment.

Neither said a word on the way down until they arrived back to the Slytherin dormitory.

“Thanks,” She said sincerely to him handing him his jacket back in the Common Room.

“Don’t mention it,” he responded in a matching tone and he too, sincerely meant it.

It was a silent agreement between the two, but neither would speak of what had just transpired between the two. Just like that Christmas of 1992 it would be something that only belonged to them and them only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Wooop! Fun chapter! And so, the plot thickenssss. So many questions!
> 
> Funfact: I took the Patronus quiz thinking of Nel’s answers and actually got the Nightjar! I couldn’t believe how perfect it was for her.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Sending you love and a hug.


	15. Chapter 15

No surprise, Gryffindor had won the House Cup again this year. As always Dumbledore's favoritism never ceased to surprise Slytherin House.

It had been a couple of days since Sirius Black escaped the clutches of the Dementors. She wouldn’t have hesitated in telling on Harry to get Black into her claws again, but then again, she was involved. She’d get into as much trouble if she even croaked about what had happened. Malfoy hadn’t gone to chew off his father’s ear too, so she assumed his thought process was about the same.   
Professor Lupin had also been missing since that full moon night. Nel was currently on way to visit him in his office since he had been back for a couple of days. She had to discuss whatever - _She flashed back to the sinister birds that emitted from the tip of her wand that same night. The horrible feeling that they brought; how cold they made the air feel_ – her Corrupted Patronus or those things were…

The door to Lupin’s office was open. She peered in wondering if he was inside and saw him standing over a battered suitcase packing what looked like to be the last of his books. His entire office had been swept clean out of any and all of his belongings.

“Ah, Elowen,” He said without turning around with his back to her. She jumped a little started at his acknowledgement of her presence. He finally turned and smiled at her through haggard eyes. His face and exposed skin all branded by new cuts and scars. She was unable to disguise her shock at the professor’s injured appearance.

“I’ve looked worse, believe me,” he half smiled at her shock.

The desk drawers were all open, the bookshelves bare. Was he leaving?

“You’re leaving?” She wondered out loud. Her heart beginning to drop.

“I’ve resigned actually,” he said flicking his wand and shutting his suitcase close.

“But- you can’t leave!” She protested. “Resigned? Why? You’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor we’ve ever had!” She fully stepped into the office. Lupin couldn’t leave. He was one of the few professors she actually enjoyed spending time with. He was kind, he actually cared, or at least he seemed to…

Lupin took in a deep breath and sighed sounding drained. He pondered for a moment if he should reveal what he really was to the student or not. She’d find out in a couple of days regardless.

“I suffer from a very particular condition. A condition which I’m afraid will make parents not want – _someone like me_ – teaching their children.” His gaze lowered to the floor in what Nel interpreted to be shame.

“What do you mean someone like you? So far, we’ve had an idiot and Voldemort as our professors. What on Earth could be worse?” He blinked twice surprise at her mentioning of the Dark Lord’s name so boldly. She hadn’t even noticed that the name had slipped.   
  
“I suffer from lycanthropy and it seems someone has let slip the nature of my condition.”

She was struck by his admission and couldn’t help but feel a burdening sense of guilt. All of this time she had misjudged him, she had labeled him as someone who knew nothing about a painful existence when he was actually werewolf. She still remembered the words he had once said to her: _"Because like you, I know what it's like to want to be something else."_ Everything made sense now. His frequent absences that at the time seemed random but weren’t. The scars. How was it that a man living with a condition which would often make victims beg to be dead could be so kind? How could he smile with such ease?

“Who?” She demanded to know. Nostrils flaring eyes becoming glassy. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t have to leave.   
  


“Whomever, it was bound to get out. This time tomorrow owls will be arriving. It’s best if I’m gone before then.”

“I’m so sorry Professor Lupin,” she lowered her head. Lupin wasn’t certain if it was out of reverence or pity or why the student would apologize to him. She didn’t seem like the type to be apologetic.   
  
“Can I ask… How…” She paused trying to properly phrase her question. “How do you do it? How do you choose kindness?”

  
Out of all the things she could’ve asked, he had not been expecting it. Then again, it was specially surprising coming from Nel Saintday, if his assumptions of what or who the girl was were correct-

The professor approached her with his hands in his pockets. Standing before her he placed a hand on her shoulder like perhaps a parent or guardian would.  
  
“Choose kindness. Choose love. Choose happiness. Always.” He gave a slight squeeze and patted her arm before stepping back to his belongings. He laughed slightly as if he had remembered something funny, almost like an inside joke. “An old friend once told me we both possess light and darkness inside of us. What matters is the part we choose to act upon.”

She looked at him sadly before stepping out.   
Right… Just like a Patronus. A guardian that emits light, hers, it drains it from the world. It’s only darkness. She decided it best to keep this detail to herself instead.

“Oh, and Nel?” He stopped her making her turn. “Write to me soon,” again he smiled at her. She couldn’t help but grin back before stepping out. She’d miss him, that’s for sure.

Walking down the stairs of the East Tower she bumped into someone she was not looking forward to seeing.

Harry.

She gave him a cold look before attempting to walk past the messy haired Gryffindor.

“Nel! Hey, wait up,” Harry stepped down and around her halting her step. She scowled at him still upset at what had happened the night that Black _‘escaped’_ Hogwarts. She still couldn’t believe that a) Hermione Granger had stunned her b) Harry who was her _‘friend’_ had allowed it c) That he was actually able to cast the Patronus Charm while she had casted – whatever that horrifying thing had been…

She was angry at Harry because of what had happened that night, but also because he had let go the _only_ person who had any idea what her origins were.   
  


“Are you alright?” He asked in concern. “I’m sorry about, well, what happened. It’s complicated, but Sirius - I mean _Black_ – it’s not what you think it is. He’s not _bad_.” Harry attempted to explain to the best of his ability without divulging too much information that could potentially endanger his Godfather.

“Sirius, he said he saved you when you were a baby.”

Nel didn’t want to talk about this. Not with Harry, not with anyone, really. Least of all the person that had cost her getting to the root of this mystery.

“Appears to be so,” She retorted nonchalantly hoping that Harry would get the hint that she didn’t want to converse and move out of the way, but he didn’t. What had Professor Lupin just advised her? To choose kindness… Maybe this could be a start, after all Harry had usually been most unusually kind to her. Feeling a sudden guilt wash over her she decided it best to shove her pride aside and at least attempt to make things right.

“I’m sorry Harry,” She apologized sincerely. “I shouldn’t be resentful of the fact that you can summon a Patronus Charm while I –“ She swallowed her words not even wanting to give a name to that horrible creature that she had summoned.

“You’ll get better at it Nel, I know you will.” He comforted her a little; surprised at the apology he was not expecting. “Are you sure you’re alright? We weren’t expecting Malfoy to come in sweeping in like that. Did he hurt you?” He asked concerned.

“Malfoy?” She repeated in shock. _Wait-_ he had actually stayed behind? She hadn’t really questioned why it was that the blonde was in the Astronomy Tower with her when she came to her senses after the stunning spell.   
Adding things up it, it made sense now. She then remembered the mortifying fact he had really seen her at her most vulnerable. Salazar’s Beard it was such a degrading thought.   
She had been avoiding him since, walking out of the room before he could enter it, taking note of where he was standing and steering clear out of his way and vision purposely. She dreaded the thought of him bringing up that night and taunting her with her most intimate insecurities.   
  
“N-No. He didn’t do anything,” She compressed her lips into a thin line her thoughts lingering on the memory of the dawn of that day.   
  
“About Black,” Harry swerved back to the original topic. “Maybe you could write to him?” He suggested raising an eyebrow at her.  
  
Leave it to Harry to come up with such a ridiculous idea.

“How would he get it? He’s an ex-convict living in hiding. I don’t think just _any_ owl will be able to find him.” Certainly not Barberry he wasn’t the brightest owl out there.  
  
Harry figured that if Nel knew what he and Hermione had done and was keeping quiet about it and most importantly probably keeping Malfoy from opening his big mouth she could be trustworthy. If any of them croaked the lot would be tossed into Azkaban no questions asked.   
  


“I’ll get it to him for you.”

Her eyes went wide with disbelief. How? Judging by the sly smile on the boy’s face she figured it was better not to push him for questions today.  
  
“Really?!” She uncharacteristically beamed and didn’t even realize she threw her arms around the Gryffindor in a surprise hug. Harry stood stiff not being used to being hugged overall, less by girls and least of all by Slytherins. He’d probably never understand how much this meant to her.

“Saintday,” She heard a familiar voice echo the corridor. Nel froze at the cross tone that the familiar voice carried. Looking over her friend’s shoulder she saw Malfoy swashing towards the two of them. She instantly let go of Harry and stepped away from the boy. The girl considered running away and hiding inside of a classroom or broom closet.

Malfoy was now standing before the two of them a displeased look on his pointy features. Harry’s expression was similar as he glared daggers at the blonde Slytherin his body language in offensive mode ready for whatever Malfoy might throw at them. Saintday couldn’t help but remember the weight of his black jacket on her shoulders and how it smelt, how he had actually been more than a gentle man and had consoled her at her worst. Mortified. She felt the blood rush to her face and neck in unflattering red patches.

Harry looked between the two Slytherins oddly. The girl who looked like a deer caught in head lights wore a flustered expression. Malfoy looked at her face intensely but said nothing. Neither did she. Both of their eyes locked on each other’s.

The Gryffindor boy felt an unfamiliar tension fill the space between them. He was debating if he should leave or not when Malfoy’s grey eyes swiftly turned to Potter.

“I was wondering what that terrible smell was,” He wrinkled his nose impolitely as if in disgust. “Should’ve guessed it was just you two _orphans_ ,” he spat rudely.

Harry immediately scowled at him, he turned to face his friend who instead seemed _relieved?_ By their tormentors’ crass words. She smirked slightly at him before letting out a haunting “ _Ha!”_

Nel felt as if a weight had been taken off her shoulders. This was a relief. Being like this, acting rude and constantly jabbing at each other just made life, easier overall.

“You think _we_ smell?” She huffed crossing her arms over her chest. “I’d be surprised if you still had any sense of smell,” she waved a hand over her nose dramatically. “I can smell you from a mile away with that tacky lotion you wear! Gives me a headache. What’s the scent supposed to be anyway? Funeral home or cleaning supplies? “

He shot her a glare and walked away bumping her shoulder so hard it almost made her step backward. Both Harry and Nel missed the slightest of smiles that made way to his face. Harry glared at the back of Malfoy’s head as he walked away.

Just like that things were back to normal.

Harry’s eyes bounced between the two Slytherin’s more confused than even. He was even more perplexed by the most peculiar smile Nel Saintday wore.

Xxxxx

The year ended and Nel practically dragged her feet back to Wool’s Orphanage.

Standing outside she looked at the old bricked building with dread. She didn’t know she wouldn’t see the building in years to come as she sucked in a deep breath. Coming back to Wool’s had never been the same since Lucy left. Nel had looked endlessly inside of Wool’s files but had found no record on where Lucy had gone off to or of her adopted family. It was almost as if she had never existed. Part of her suspected the girl had probably taken off and taken to the streets. Wool had erased all records of her to make it seem as if Lucy Bonilla never existed. They would’ve been about the same age now. Elowen would never admit it out loud but she was resentful of the girl, not for leaving Wool’s, but for not taking her along.

Walking in some young kids cheered welcoming her back and jumped on her arms making them lift them up. The owl in the cage cried nervously at the sudden attention. She stopped to great them and was about to make way to the laundry room when Aisha stood in her way.

Like always she was wearing a sickly pink color and her hair in a long braid, dark eyes fixed on her trunk and other school belongings.

“I wouldn’t get too comfortable if I were you,” She scowled at her before turning away.

The brunette simply arched an eyebrow in confusion. She didn’t even have time to question what that statement went when Matron Cordelia Wool stepped out of her office.

“Ah, there you are,” She said a hand on her large hip. “’Bout time you got here.” She opened the door to her pastel pink office that smelt like a bottle of Lysol and nodded her head towards the inside. “Inside. Now.”

Nel stepped in with an irritated expression. She was expecting Wool to pin some terrible disaster like a pipe bursting on her. Or to try and intimidate her by locking her in the Chokey like she used to when she was younger. However, she was surprised when she saw there was another person in the office. Her dark blue fashion strongly contrasting the pale pink backgrounds of the office. The witch standing in the room eyed Nel’s appearance from head to toe. Her baggy washed jeans and oversized grey sweatshirt. She seemed to be mildly horrified at the status of her sneakers.   
  
“Elowen,” Wool began to introduce. “This is Ms. –“ She paused, her nose wrinkling in disgust as she signaled towards the dark-haired woman with sharp angled face features.   
  
“Ms. Cloelia Lestrange,” The woman with unblinking blue eyes stretched out a hand.

Hesitantly looking at her with suspicious eyes she shook the woman’s frail looking hand.   
  
“She’s- _your kind_ ,” Wool wrinkled her nose before rounding around her desk and plopping down on her cushioned desk chair. She looked at some papers on the table and assembled them into a thick package which she stacked neatly before putting into a folder.

“The adoption papers are ready, if you would just sign here Ms. Lestrange,” Wool said in an apathetic dead tone.

Shaken by the words Elowen shook her head in disbelief. Fourteen-year-old orphan witches didn’t get adopted just out of the blue by strangers.   
“Wait- what?” she gaped in disbelief. “I never consented to this adoption!” She gawked incredulously her eyes rapidly darting between Wool and Ms. Lestrange.

Wool’s tired eyes looked past Nel. The dark circles under them giving her a dreadful appearance. Lestrange appeared composed as if she hadn’t heard her opposition.   
  
“Court ruled in Lestrange’s favor claiming it was in your best interest.” Wool explained while pointing at Lestrange to sign one last page.

Elowen wasn’t sure what to feel. On one hand she was happy to be leaving this rancid place. However, she felt some guilt. What would happen to all of the other children that stayed behind? Who would watch over them? Also, who was this witch and what did she want with her? How did she even know about her?

“You mentioned you have a son?” Wool commented absent mindedly.

“Ah, yes, my dear boy. He’s away on an apprenticeship in Paris,” She turned to Nel and smiled at her sweetly. “But I’ve always wanted a daughter,” She said giving one of her cheeks a hard pinch.

Nel slapped her hand away and glared at her new guardian. She wasn’t five she didn’t need this stranger talking down to her guardian or not.   
Cloelia seemed amused by this and tutted at her before holding her hands before her lap. The girl eyed the woman carefully. This would be her new guardian, her new _mother_. Part of it made her heart flutter with excitement. She would finally be part of a family. She would finally be claimed under a proper name. She’d have a loving home to return to, her own room, her own brand-new clothes. She didn’t know what a family was like, but she had actually pictured it like on the tellie. The white-picked fence life, a mother, a father, a boy and a girl all coming together to talk about their day over a delicious dinner. Maybe… Just maybe that dream would no longer be a fantasy.

She leaned over Wool’s desk attempting to catch a glimpse of the information on the documents.

“So,” she probed slowly. “I’m going to be a Lestrange?” She asked tasting how the last name felt in her mouth. It was, well, strange.

Elowen Lestrange. She felt like it fit. Looking at Cloelia her heart skipped a beat at the thought of the lady being her mother, her family. Her hair was black, not dark brown like Nel’s but still it was dark?   
Maybe… Just maybe they were related.  
  


The thought of belonging to a family made the edges of her mouth turn up into a hopeful smile.

“No,” Wool answered fully. “According to the British Government you are still Elowen Saintday.”

Of course. She hadn’t been claimed. The girl fought the urge to lower her head in shame. She simply stood still in response of the lack of acceptance into her family.

“No returns or exchanges accepted,” Wool tried at a poor attempt at a bad joke as she looked at the orphan smugly.

“I won’t miss you,” Nel glowered hatefully. She shot them both a death glare before walking out of the room.

Wool let out a sigh of relief when the girl stepped out of the room. Ms. Lestrange arched an eyebrow in intrigue when Cordelia Wool began shedding tears. Her face was flushed and turned into an ugly mug. As rivers of fat tears made way down her ugly face.

“Bless you, really, thank you so, _so_ , much,” she was actually crying tears of joy! “I mean it, _no returns!”_

Wool would probably throw a party.

Xxxx

Nel bid goodbye to some of the other children in the house. Some were crying, some had no idea who she was, others, two in particular, were glad to see her go. Afterall she had either grown up with most of them or watched them grow. Alf and Aisha, her tormentors ,simply glared with vile smiles from a distance as the two witches left the orphanage.

She didn’t look back at Wool’s orphanage once as she left. Afterall there was nothing to look back to. The younger kids would eventually have to step up and learn to fend for themselves, but then again that was life.

The witch didn’t say much as they walked a couple of blocks before dipping into an alleyway. Nel still pulling at her stuff behind her. Her owl’s marble like eyes seemed to look between the two women confused.

Cloelia then stopped and turned to face Elowen who looked at her with mistrust. She smiled the edges of her lips pinching as she did. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was but there was something fishy about this lady. Or maybe it was just the girls’ mistrustful nature.

After having a mass murderer, an idiot and a werewolf as a professor nothing was surprising anymore, not really.

“Are you my mother?” She asked directly. Both wondering if this witch was a distant relative or if she would embrace her as a daughter.

Cloelia was currently applying a shade of red lipstick to her lips and eyeing her appearance on a small pocket mirror before putting it back into her purse. “No,” She responded simply before turning to Nel and once again smiling at her. An action which unnerved the girl to no end.

Then why bother adopting her?

“Although I always did want a daughter,” She stretched a hand forward gently and took the girl’s face in her hand with the other she brushed back the bangs that usually hid her face and starred at her dark eyes, beauty marks and other features.

“Lay off lady,” Elowen glared in her hostile nature and stepped back away from the strange woman’s touch.   
  
“You’re quite rude for a lady your age. Aren’t you?” She said looking down at the girl with contempt.

“What lady?” Nel basically growled out in rude sarcasm.   
  
“My, we’ve got a lot of work to do,” Ms. Lestrange sighed and shook her head slightly. She didn’t give the girl a warning before grabbing onto her shoulder and the two apparated.

The next thing Nel knew was that everything went black; she was pressed very hard from all direction; Barberry screeching as this happened; she couldn’t breathe, it almost felt as if she was being constricted, eyeballs being pushed to the back of her head and ear-drums deeper into her skull before they apparated before a large building that was placed on top of a cliff neighboring a black ocean.

A strong wind blew past them.

Six, fat, large yew trees were planted before the building Nel now realized was a manor. Two in the center in between the door tilted forward creating an arch of branches leading to the entrance of the two-story house.

Cloelia pulled out an elegantly carved black wand and flicked it at Nel’s belonging. Her poor screeching owl and other belongings suddenly vanished.

_“Bienvenue à la Maison de Lestrange.”_

xxxxx

La Maison de Lestrange was grand. It was speckless with dark browns and dark black wood possessing elegant furniture that looked ancient and absolutely regal. Nel could see a house elf scurrying around the house cleaning and polishing the floors. Cloelia lead her upstairs to a room which the girl took notice could be locked from the outside.

“This will be your room Elowen,” she opened the door to reveal what seemed to her to be a massive room. At least compared to the laundry room that had been her home for her whole life. There was a large twin bed at its center with a beautiful canopy post similar to the one at Hogwarts. She had an actual dresser, a wardrobe, a vanity, and two night stands next to the bed.

All of this… _was hers?_

“I expect your face to be washed, your old clothes to be disposed off and for you to be properly dressed for dinner and punctual for dinner tonight.”

Nel was in shock. This was the girl whose most priceless belonging was a burnt sweater that didn’t even fit her anymore. She opened the door to her wardrobe and noted it was fully stocked with brand new clothes. This made her head spin. They all looked to be brand new in fashion, they were her size, they weren’t used, they weren’t worn, they didn’t have any wear or tears on them. It was bittersweet, she looked at the fine fabrics and fashionable skirts and blouses, _they weren’t her_. She hadn’t picked them. This was somebody else imposing themselves on her person.

Regardless, she had to be grateful. It had to have costed a fortune. Then again, judging from the scope of the property it seemed like it hadn’t been a problem for Ms. Lestrange.

“Why?” Nel gaped.

Fourteen-year-old witch orphans did not get adopted just like that. Specially uncharming ones with terrible tempers like Nel Saintday.

“Why _me?”_ She repeated when she saw that her adoptive guardian simply stood by the door holding both of her hands before her lap, back standing straight. Who was this lady anyway? What did she even do for a living?

“I’ve always wanted a daughter,” She responded sweetly. Again, with a very tight smile. There was something _off_ about her, something that made Nel suspicious that this woman knew more than she was letting on.

Some moments later Ms. Lestrange returned to Elowen’s room. She didn’t knock before opening the door intruding in to find the girl feeding a treat to her owl. The room was now disorganized with clothes thrown everywhere on the floor and bed. The girl was late for dinner and she was still wearing her clothes from the orphanage.

“None of those clothes fit me,” Nel tossed casually over her shoulder. She also didn’t particularly like them but being used to a lifetime of wearing the scraps of others this wasn’t a viable excuse.

A disapproving look made Ms. Lestrange’s brow wrinkle at the sight of the room. “Nonsense,” she stepped into the room and flickered her want at everything folding clothes neatly into stacks. She stopped before the girl and pointed her long wand towards her changing her jeans and short top into a knee length long sleeved dark blue dress. There wasn’t anything special about it, it was the type of outfit you’d wear to a religious service. Even her shoes had changed from her usual sneakers to black flats with a strap.

“I don’t like these clothes either,” she finally admitted looking at her adoptive guardian with a wary look and at the dull clothes she was wearing. “I’ll be eighteen in four years. You won’t be able to tell me what to do for much longer.”

Seriously, why bother adopting a fourteen-year-old basket case?

The woman smirked at the threating tone and moved her wand again. Nel was struck when her body began to move on its own. Her brain was sending signals to her legs to step towards the vanity. She fought this feeling but failed and her body moved on its own making her take a seat before the vanity’s mirror. She looked at her horrified reflection in the mirror.

“That’s illegal!” Nel shouted.   
  
The woman was using the Imperio curse on her; one of the Unforgivable and most terrible curses. Cleo silenced her remaining unbothered to the way the girl’s mouth and eyes were frantically moving yet no sound was coming out. Her hands were glued to the vanity’s surface.   
  
“You’re a lady Elowen, it’s time you begin acting like one. Time to grow up!” She clapped her hands together.

Very calmly, even eerily and disturbingly humming a tune the woman approached her and picking up a hairbrush began calmly brushing her dark brown hair, even brushing it out of her face and tugging it behind her ears into a neater more polished look.

“Such a pretty face to hide behind that _rideau_ of hair,” She spoke in her thick French accent even dropping a word that Nel had no idea what it meant. “Behave, do as I say and I don’t think we’ll have a problem,” the woman once again smiled at her a sickly-sweet smile before calmly walking out the door. “I’ll be waiting for you at the dinner table.”

The moment Cloelia left the room, Nel collapsed on the vanity gripping the edges breathing hard at the horrible sensation of having your body controlled in such an invasive manner.

Wool couldn’t control her like that. She could starve her, lock her up, damage her mind and body, insult and belittle her but she couldn’t use Dark Magic on her.

The thought of not being in possession of her person made her fearfully tremble in her seat. She looked at her reflection in the mirror once again. The person starring back wasn’t her.  
  
It was then that Nel had a terrible realization.   
  
The room she was in, it wasn’t what it looked like. Then again, nothing ever was.

She had graduated from one prison into a larger one.

xxxxx

STARRING

EVA GREEN as CLOELIA LESTRANGE

and

TIMOTHEE CHALAMET as CLAUDIUS ELLAR LESTRANGE

Xxxxx


	16. Chapter 16

Living in the House of Lestrange, was, well, strange for less of a better word. It didn’t take Nel long to learn two things about Ms. Cloelia Lestrange.   
  
The main thing was she had a knack for polished manners. Apparently, the missus ran a primary school for Pure-Blood children, she taught everything from reading, writing and other educational basics to extra curriculars such as proper etiquette and ball room dancing. Things that were considered to be essential to the people running in these circles. Since Elowen was under her thumb and guardianship it was essential that she be a fit representation of this. For the first time in her life the teenager had the proper guardian of what seemed to be a proper motherly figure.

Despite her opposition to it Elowen as she was now to be addressed according to Cloelia, learned to dress, groom herself like a proper lady.   
This she surprisingly didn’t mind too much, as a young child she had been curious by makeup once sneaking into Wool’s room and putting a pink lipstick all over her face and a street dog. This earned her twenty slaps on her hands with a snappy ruler. She never went near the damn things ever again.   
  


However, what she did mind was sitting in the old dining table that kicked you whenever you committed an etiquette mistake.   
  
Talk with a mouthful. _Kick.  
  
_ Reach for jam without asking for it to be passed. _Kick.  
  
_

Use the wrong utensils in the wrong order. _Kick.  
  
_

Eating your soup towards you instead of away. _Kick._

Kick the table for kicking you. _Kick._

Cloelia would always sit at the head of the table which seemed to dictate the meal’s accepted and unaccepted manners. “Nuh-uh-hu,” She’d warn whenever Nel reached for a bread roll across the table. “Too many and you’ll get plump.”

The girl shot her a glare.  
  
 _Kick._  
  
“Mind your manners,” She’d smile smugly at her. When the table would attack her. It almost seemed to bring a strange type of sadistic pleasure to her.

Because of this Nel’s shins were painfully bruised in shades of violet, purple, green and yellow. When confronting Cloelia about it she simply sipped on her tea and told her Nel was asking for it.

Being at the Lestrange’s was like some twisted charms school. Perhaps the abuse wasn’t physical, but it was certainly emotional.

The second thing about Cloelia was that she absolutely adored her only son Ellar. The only time that Ms. Lestrange seemed to remove her hawk like eyes from Elowen was when she was reading her son’s leaders. There weren’t many recent pictures of the two in the walls, but the woman would constantly praise him and remind the girl just how handsome and terribly smart her son was. She would even gush when receiving letters and French pastries from him.   
There didn’t seem to be a Mr. Lestrange in the picture. Nel didn’t ask why.  
Apparently Ellar who Nel had already boxed as pretentious racist like most of the other Pure-Bloods she had met was away doing an internship in France.

It was strange being in the life. She finally had the same clothes as the other Slytherin girls, but they still weren’t hers. Accepting them felt like granting Cloelia ownership over her person. Something Nel felt like was a given to the older woman consider how she took her liberties in making harsh comments about her appearance constantly.

One of the bright sides of living with Cloelia was that she did not mind if Nel had contact with her friend which was a breath of fresh air. However, Nel still had to work up the courage to ask if she could attend the Quidditch World Cup Final Game with Theo and Tracey.  
  
Presently…

_‘Harder. Up, down, up down, left, right, left, right- That’s right! Keep it up! Transform those buns into steel!’_

Nel was currently coated in sweat working out to an old record of _witch-lattes_ or aerobics, she wasn’t sure which one was playing. All she knew was that she was exhausted and Cloelia was watching her from a comfortable sit while eating a large pumpkin pastry.

“You’ve got to maintain your figure,” She said licking her greasy lips before taking a small lady-like bite from the pastry.

_‘Easier said than done,’_ the girl bit her tongue and rolled her eyes.  
She was sweating bullets and felt she was in desperate need of a shower when she heard the front door slam. She paid it no mind much to focused on the exercise.

_“Maman!”_ An unfamiliar voice entered the room.

“Ellar! Oh! Welcome home mon cœur!”

Nel had never seen Ms. Lestrange move so fast before. She jumped from her seat and exclaiming other French words in excitement advanced towards her son whom she embraced and showered in kisses.

“I wanted to surprise you!” He stated hugging his mother back.

Elowen remained quiet at the interaction. Not because she had always wanted somebody to welcome her home like that.  
In that moment she realized she wanted to die.

_He was hot._

He was a couple of years older than her and very handsome. In contrast here she stood a sweating mess. She had never seen a more beautiful person before. With a strong jaw, sleepy eyes and dark curly hair, Ellar looked like the protagonist of a period drama. He was dressed in soothing tones of velvet blue and turned to acknowledge her with his hazel eyes.

She wanted to look away but couldn’t and felt her skin heating in unflattering patches of red. She prayed he’d assume they were from the exercise and not his presence.

“This is Elowen Saintday,” Cloelia introduced. “She’s the young lady I wrote to you about.”

Nel was too busy drooling at her son that she didn’t snap out of her trance until she heard the woman addressing her. “I expect you’ll be gracious towards my son.”

You bet that _would not_ be a problem. His mother gave Ellar what seemed to be a knowing look. He approached her and reached for her hand bringing it to his lips in an antiquated gesture. He said something she didn’t understand in French.

“What?” She asked flushing nervously. She wanted to slap herself and mentally beat herself up for not responding “Hi.”   
She was shellshocked never having had her hand held and kissed like that, specially by an older boy.  
  
“I’m enchanted,” He now said in English flashing her a charming smile. “I said the pleasure is all mine,” he translated. Was he blatantly flirting with her, in front of his mother? Ms. Lestrange seemed unbothered or completely oblivious to this.  
  
She had been around the opposite sex her whole life. Back at Wool’s, Back at Hogwarts. Why would this one be any different?

That day Nel found herself actually looking forward to dinner.   
You bet she picked out her nicest clothes and did and re-did her hair over and over again until she just gave up on it.   
  
At dinner she learned that Ellar was a sixth-year student at Beauxbaton Magical Academy in France. He had spent his summer at an internship with the French Ministry of Magic working in the Department of Mysteries. He said he was particularly studying certain enigmas of magic such as death, time, space, thoughts and love, it was fascinating.  
  
Even Bindi the Lestrange’s House Elf, whom Nel wasn’t allowed to speak with, had gone all out with the dinner. However, she did not seem happy to see her master return. Cloelia was stern with her but as far as Nel knew she had never seen her be stern or particularly cruel to the female elf.

Ellar drank his wine and lay a hand on his stomach taking in the familiar meal he had just had. “Everything magnificent as always mother,” he let out a long breath as he relaxed into his chair.   
  


Her hand was halfway reaching for a second slice of cake. It was then that she noticed the older teen was looking at her, and she was staring at the beautiful stranger back.   
  
“Should you really be having another slice?” He arched an eyebrow in the direction of the beautifully decorated vanilla cake in the center of the dining table.

Embarrassed she lowered her fork and looked away from his perturbing gaze.  
  
“Will we be attending the Quidditch World Cup Finals this year?” Ellar added turning to face his mother.

Forgetting her embarrassment at wanting another slice she turned to attentively listen out for Cloelia’s answer.

“Of course, dear, the Minister has invited us to his personal box,” His mother responded pompously. “And I trust both of you,” Her eyes shot the girl a look, “Will be on your best behavior.”

Nel couldn’t help but smile a little.

_Don’t count on it._  
  
She winced when she felt the dining table kick her shin. Could the stupid table read minds too?

_Alright, maybe do count on it.  
  
_ “I was actually planning on attending with some friends of mine. If that’s alright,” Elowen butted scanning her guardian’s face for any hint of disapproval.

Ms. Lestrange put her utensils down and gaped at the girl in appalling horror. “And refuse the Ministry of Magic’s invitation?” She brought a hand to her chest in offense. “You will sit with us in the box,” She said in a term that was non-negotiable.

“Minister of Magic can choke,” Nel grumbled underneath her breath earnings her a well-earned kick from under the table.

_“Friends?”_ She was surprised to see Ellar scoffing and judging her answer. He learned slightly forward in her direction. “Why would you rather see your friends when you can network with the Minister himself? Think about it Elowen,” He began speaking in an eloquent tone.   
“If you’ve got Fudge on your side it could open a lot of doors for you,” He smirked slightly in her direction. “How do you think I got my foot in the French Ministry of Magic’s door?”

He spoke like a true Slytherin. This was the type of cunning talk about ambition she would’ve heard in the Common Room or perhaps the type of advice that Professor Snape would’ve given her if she had asked for any.

Nel wanted to disagree but Ellar was right.

  
She had to respect his ambition.

Xxxxx

Meanwhile, that same night, in a dark room, in an old broken-down house just outside of Little Hangleton a vile ploy was being orchestrated.

Whispers and hushed voices could be heard echoing the dusty, cob-webbed corridors of the house. Their only companions a howling wind and a nosey old man.

“Oh, no, no, no my Lord. I only meant... Perhaps if we were to do it without the boy. We could use the girl; the girl is ready…” A large man with the face of a rat cowered before his master. “She’s under the guardship of Lestrange. We could take her now, do what we need-“

“NO!” The master’s dark tone bounced off the walls. “I need them _both._ _Together._ It will be done exactly as I say.” He stretched out a hand calling for his snake to come and gather around its master. “The boy, he’s everything, and the girl…” He went silent for a moment. “Everything will be done with precision at the right time. I’ve been waiting fourteen years for this. I can wait one more…”

Without much of a choice Pettigrew lowered his head as he groveled to Voldemort. “I will not disappoint you my Lord.” He bowed.

“Good,” Voldemort rasped. “First, gather our old comrades. Send them a sign.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Short chapter but brief introduction to Y4. What do you guys think Voldy is up to?   
> Also, thoughts on Ellar’s character?   
> Next chapter we’re going to the Quidditch World Cup!


	17. Chapter 17

Massive crowds where gathered in the campgrounds. Tents of all sizes, large and small, some several stories high others not, some with flagpoles bearing banners and flags of either Irish green or Bulgarian red. Lively music was being played and brooms whizzed above the heads of the Lestranges and the only Saintday as they walked by aweing at the sights.

The Quidditch World Cup was, alike most of the magical world, absolutely unbelievable. Drunks cheered in the streets with painted faces showing their team pride. Nel had wanted to paint her face Irish Green but Cloelia had slapped her hands away at the simple mentioning of it. Instead she had been cohered into wearing a clean face with dark gray formal dress that resembled a coat and seemed to reach right above her knees matched with a pair of pointy witch boots. Her guardian insisted proper attire would be essential if they were to be in the presence of the Minister of Magic himself Cornelius Fudge.

Elowen’s dark eyes scanned the crowd as she sought out any familiar trace of her friends. Tracey had said they would be by the Press tent. It took her some time to spot them not far from the entrance to the stadium.

“I’m going to go say hi to my friends,” she said to the Lestranges. Both shot her a disapproving look. “Want to come?” She asked Ellar with hopeful eyes and a broad smile.

“No,” he shot down coldly before walking into the stadium disinterested. She frowned a little at his cold response.

“Don’t be long,” Cloelia said before turning and following after her son.

Nel crossed a maze of people dodging drunks and loud cheering individuals until she reached the trio standing just outside of the tent. She tapped Theo’s shoulder and he turned around giving her a confused look.

It took him a moment to realize it was his friend tapping his shoulder and not a stranger. “Nel?” He asked eyes going wide at the realization.

The long shaggy bangs and choppy hair were gone. So were the oversized worn clothes she would wear. Before the group stood someone, who seemed to look like what polished young lady in sophisticated Pureblood Society would look like.

Tracey turned around and was less discrete about her shock.

“Holy smokes! What happened to you?” She asked in awe, still tackling her friend into a hug.

“What are you talking about?” The orphan responded cluelessly in the embrace. “I told you, I got adopted,” she simply shrugged. 

“Seems like manners aren’t the only things the Lestrange have instilled in you,” Daphne butted eyeing the girl’s new fashion from head to toe. She herself was wearing something similar. Of course she knew about her adoption, it seemed like most individuals belonging to the same social circle as the Lestranges were well aware.

Nel still found it odd that Greengrass had been invited in her spot when she wrote to her friends saying she’d simply meet them at the game.

“Manners, schmanners. Who cares if your finger is up or down when you’re having a drink?” she said reaching from some green paint from Tracey’s face and smearing it on her cheek.

Theodore was about to say something when someone bumped into him from behind purposely making him briskly stumble forward.

“Oi!” Nel shouted loudly before shoving back the individual foully. “Watch it!” She threatened.

Blaise Zabini who was towering above them gaped at the girl who had just threatened him. “Saintday?” He asked in awe. The mark on her exposed face- impossible to confuse. It was her, but at the same time it wasn’t. She looked like the type of girl he would see at a Yule dinner with his family or in the company of Daphne Greengrass, which might make sense to him as to why the young witch was there.

“Move it along Zabini!” She snapped turning away from him.

The teen left.

“Classic Saintday,” Theodore said with a slight smirk. Like Zabini he seemed to have also grown a couple of inches over the summer. His curly hair longer, features sharper.

“Well,” Daphne added. “I think you look very nice Elowen,” she complimented brushing her perfect hair back over her shoulder. “We should go find out seats,” Tracey said almost gushing to walk into the massive arena. “Your seat shouldn’t be far from ours.”

The group nodded before making their way inside.

“Meet here afterwards?” Nel said to the group signaling to the spot in front of the Press tent.  
  
“Uh, perhaps not,” Daphne said in an uneasy voice. “My father wants me home right after the game.”

“Yeah, same here,” Theo added in the same quiet tone.

She flashed them both a confused look. _Home?_ Why would they go home when the party was about to get started?   
She turned to look at Tracey with hopeful eyes.

“I’m going to take some pictures with my dad afterwards,” She explained. “Maybe next time?”

Nel soon reached the private viewing box where she would be sitting. She had to pass several security checks but was allowed through. She spotted her guardians across the large viewing box conversing with whom she assumed to be the Minister of Magic.

Ellar was standing by the rail his eyes lazily following some of the whizzing fireworks that were shot from one side of the pitch to the other.   
He looked so cool.   
Distracted by starring at the older teen she almost crashed into Lucius Malfoy.  
  
Maybe it wasn’t a surprise that he was here. Standing next to him was a woman with pointy face features whom Nel could only assume was his wife. Her appearance was eerily similar to his. Even strands of her dark hair (which at this point was mostly blonde) were colored in that same tone of platinum blonde. She couldn’t distinct if it was natural or not.

“Mr. Malfoy,” She nodded towards the man civilly.

Lucius was intimidatingly polite as he usually was to her. His grey eyes instantly starred at the moles that dotted her face. Something the man _never_ seemed to miss. It was unnerving really the way he blatantly starred in such a rude manner. His grey eyes made her want to flinch under his stare.  
  
“Elowen Saintday,” He greeted. “Or should I address you as Lestrange now?” He looked down at her with much disdain. She had a feeling he knew of her unclaimed status and of course about her impromptu adoption over the summer holiday.

“Saintday will do,” She responded curtly.

The woman was staring at her just like Lucius was. Nel couldn’t help but feel self-conscious as her eyes raked from the headband on top of her head all the way down to the pointy tip of her boots. Even her fingertips and black nail polish weren’t exempt from her judgement. She was looking at Nel as if she was an insect. She couldn’t distinct if she was an insect to be squashed or ogled at.

“This is my wife Narcissa,” he introduced placing a hand on his wife’s lower back.

Narcissa wore a curious smile, one that edged higher at one corner of her mouth just like her sons usually did.

Nel instinctively extended a hand forward one which was left unshaken leaving her to awkwardly close it and lower it. “Charmed,” she simply responded. The teen nodded politely biting her tongue to prevent her from making a snarky comment. She wanted to seem cool and sophisticated, especially in front of Ellar.  
  


“Pleasure is all mine,” She responded poshly, like she had been instructed to do countless of times by Cloelia.

“I understand you’re in my son Draco’s year. He has mentioned you once or twice.”

_‘When I turned his head into a balloon? Or when I set him on fire at Hogsmeade?_ ’ She wondered which of the two it could’ve been. No wonder the woman didn’t like her. The slightest of smug smirks tugging at the edges of Nel’s mouth.

From the other side of the sitting box a pair of ears caught his name.   
Draco Malfoy turned and saw Nel Saintday out of all people conversing with his parents. He swaggered towards them hoping his parents hadn’t taken the luxury of embarrassing him yet.   
She looked at him and seemed a little surprised by his massive growth spur, he was now almost as tall as is father, easily a head taller than her. Neat blond hair parted to the side and wearing a crisply ironed black suit. He hadn’t held back on the cologne either.

He didn’t comment on her appearance unlike the other Slytherins.

“ _Just_ once or twice,” He interrupted cooly composing himself at his mother’s slip. The edge of his mouth turning up just like his mother’s did.

_“Draco,”_ She simply acknowledged him by name. Which was weird. She had never called him that before but if she called him Malfoy, she was afraid all three would turn to face her. Without another word she raised her brows at him, like he usually did to her, and brushed past him excusing herself.  
  
“So, that’s her,” Narcissa hummed more to herself, her eyes still glued to the back of the teen’s head.

Of course, she had heard her husband speak about Elowen Saintday more than more or twice. Draco had also written home about her more than once. Usually complaining about the unbearable witch that was so bloody good at charms and constantly made his head swell up like a balloon. Judging from the daggers he was shooting at the back of her head as she greeted Ellar Lestrange, she presumed she still had the ability to crawl under her son’s skin.

_“The Girl Who Died?”_ She whispered to Lucius who in return gave her a silencing glare. Still with a sly smirk Narcissa turned to her son. “You never mentioned she was quite pretty Draco.”

  
That’s because she wasn’t. Draco didn’t know why he couldn’t tear his eyes away. That person was _not_ Nel Saintday. That person shaking Cornelius Fudge’s hand nodding in agreement, slightly laughing at a bad joke the man said.

_“What do you intend to do with your future Ms. Saintday?”  
“I’m keeping my options open,” She admitted. “I have been considering Curse Breaking as a career.”_

Draco mused to himself as he eavesdropped. He would’ve never guessed that. His best guess would’ve been Dueling Master like Professor Flitwick.

She was now standing next to Ellar. Both leaning over the railing leaning forward to look at the Quidditch pitch. Smiling at each other and pointing at different fireworks and lights on the sky.

Well mannered. Posh. Well behaved. Hair neatly groomed for what appeared to be the first time in her life. His parents might have missed it, but Draco didn’t miss the smudged green paint on her face. He felt himself cringe when he saw that Lestrange wanker lick his thumb and wipe the paint away making her face turn red.

He wanted to push him off the balcony rail.

The French git left for a moment.

Nel was too busy gawking at the dancing leprechauns that were making it rain Irish gold over the people in the stands that she didn’t notice the youngest Malfoy creeping up on her side.

“You know I speak French too,” he said hands deep in his pockets. She turned to give him a funny look. “Fluently,” he added proudly.

“So?” She arched an eyebrow and couldn’t help but eye him oddly. So, he was bilingual and knew how to play the violin. Big deal. So what?

“It’s not impressive. That’s all I’m saying,” he sneered in the direction of the dark-haired boy, glaring daggers at his back as he helped himself to some beer.

“You sound jealous,” She smirked at him and he couldn’t help but scowl at her accusation. “Almost as if you _want_ to be him,” she poked a second time.

“Why-,” He laughed mockingly. “Would I _ever_ want to be that French git?”

She brought a hand to her chin and loudly hummed as if in deep in thought. “Let’s see,” she began. “He’s refined, actually polite, _fun_ – and doesn’t need to be a pompous _arse_ to be liked!” She slapped his chest with a paper pamphlet she was holding.

He grabbed the Quidditch pamphlet and threw it over his shoulder without any care. “Ever considering a career in stand-up comedy Saintday?” He laughed dryly. “At least I haven’t gotten expelled from Hogwarts.”

She finally turned to look at him. A surprised look on her face. He floundered in the moment knowing this would strike a nerve.  
  
“Expelled?” She asked for some clarification blinking twice.

“Oh?” He grinned pleased. This was always the best way to get her attention. Nel Saintday was like a dog with a bone when it came to unanswered questions and other mysteries; He knew she wouldn’t let go of until she had an answer. “He never mentioned he attended Hogwarts?” He pressed.   
  
Had he? She scanned her few thoughts and memories of Ellar. He had never mentioned he had attended Hogwarts, but why wouldn’t he? He had nothing to hide, _right?_

“You’re lying,” She narrowed her eyes in mistrust.

Ellar approached from behind sipping on a pint of beer despite being both underage and in the presence of the Ministry of Magic himself.

“Am I?” Draco leaned forward and spoke in a low tone. She looked at him with wariness. “Also,” He raised both of his brows innocently at her before leaning in closer to her ear. “Bulgaria is going to conquer. Krum’s got it in the bag,” he whispered before returning to his family.

She seethed glaring at the back of his blond head strongly fighting the urge to make it swell like a giant air balloon.

“What’d he want?” Ellar asked curiously as he sipped on his beer.

She let out a sharp snort and turned her attention to the starting game. “Nothing important,” she grumbled.

The crowd cheered loudly as five green and white figures flew through the air on brooms leaving behind a trail of emerald and white. A large glittering leprechaun appeared in the sky and. Began Irish dancing. Excitement was in the air.   
  
“Good evening!” The announced began. “It gives me great pleasure to welcome each and every one of you to the final of the 422nd Quidditch  
World Cup. Let the match begin!”

* * *

The game was exhilarating. Nel who had never particularly enjoyed Quidditch had a blast. Being in the pitch was a completely different experience.

Everybody in the Ministry of Magic’s box was completely composed and boringly clapped whenever a point was scored. Nel on the other hand behaved as if she was in a chicken coop loudly cheering and passionately jumping with every point Ireland scored. 

At some point she heard Draco cheer, but he cleared his throat and composed himself pretending to be disinterested in the game.

She wished she had watched the game with Tracey and Theodore but overall Nel had a good time. By the end of it she was being aggressive over the Irish victory over Bulgaria.

Ellar seemed upset by Bulgaria’s loss. He almost spilled most of his drink on the poor people below the viewing box.

“That was really something!” She cheered matching the step of the older teen as they made their way out of the stadium. “Did you see how Krum and Lynch both dived for the snitch? For a moment there I really thought Lynch was going to beat him to it!” 

“1990 World Cup was better,” he griped with an irritated look on his striking features. She couldn’t tell if he was more annoyed or slightly buzzed from all the beers he’d had. There were a pair of Irish fans descending down the stairs above loudly cheering and chanting Ireland. They looked down at the snobbish people in the Minister’s box. “Irish pride!” They cheered loudly.

Carried away by the spirit Elowen cheered back just as enthusiastically

“Stop acting so ridiculous,” He shot her a silencing glare.

Ellar was… odd. One moment he was completely charming kissing her hand, making her laugh, wiping paint off from her face, slipping her some wine when his mother wasn’t looking. But other times he had emotional shifts like this in which he would completely shut down and shut her out. Nel piped down and grew silent. She wanted Ellar to _fancy_ her.   
She wanted to make him laugh and wanted him to hold her hand and kiss it and bring her flowers for no reason like she had seen in some movies back at Wool’s.

“You got lucky Saintday,” She didn’t even turn to acknowledge Malfoy who was walking at her side ready to press all of her buttons. “What a game,” He said again sinking his hands into his pockets.

“I should’ve bet with you. Would’ve made a pretty galleon or two.”   
  
He let out a humorous huff, “Pocket change,” He answered pretentiously.

She rolled her eyes at his response. Classic Malfoy.   
  
“Who says we still can’t bet?” He challenged.  
  
“Oh yeah?” This piquet her interest. Nel was extremely cautious with her limited spending. The uncertainty of the future didn’t allow her to misspend even a single Sickle. But if she could swindle Malfoy out of some _“pocket change”_ that would be ideal. “What do you want to bet on?”   
  
“How far that frog’s stick is up his arse?” He nudged in Ellar’s direction. She chortled slightly and hit his arm lightly laughing. He wasn’t wrong.   
“He’s just… bitter,” She excused his behavior shaking her head with a slight frown on her brow.

“Rumor is that Viktor Krum and the Durmstrang Institute will be on Hogwarts’ grounds this year because of the Triwizard Tournament. I bet you I can get him to sit with me in the Slytherin table.”

It was true. She had been hearing Cloelia and Ellar talk about the Triwizard Tournament which Hogwarts would be hosting this year. From what she had heard Durmstrang and Beauxbaton being the two other largest Magic Schools in Europe would also be participating in it.  
  
“Bet,” She agreed.

“Two galleons,” he stated the amount they would be gambling on.   
“Two galleons?” She coughed back incredulously at the amount. That was about the equivalent of ten pounds or ten dollars. “I thought this was pocket change for you Malfoy.”

  
“I don’t want to swindle you too bad when I win,” he added arrogantly. Already acting as if he had it in the bag. “Fine,” She muttered in agreement before lightly hitting his arm once again. He simpered faintly at the gesture.

They were about to reach the exit when Lucius Malfoy turned back and gave his son a commanding look to keep up. His black cane being raised as he led the way.   
  
“Unlike _you_ , _I_ have been invited to the Bulgarian Team’s tent. Personal invitation from Headmaster Igor Karkaroff himself,” he bragged self-importantly. Of course, he already had a head start on their bet. The sly bastard would be rubbing shoulders with Krum himself all evening.   
Nel wasn’t impressed by his invitation. Having sat through a painful viewing of the most exciting event of the year with a load of bores she figured the Bulgarians probably weren’t that fun either.

“You’re the worst.” She stated dully.  
  


“See you at school,” He said dismissingly with a typical eyebrow raise before going after his family.

Outside of the stadium Ellar was still upset. He hadn’t said another word since he had snapped at Nel to stop acting childishly or ridiculously, she couldn’t remember what adjective he had used. Cloelia walked with her back straight, head held up high. She almost seemed like she was in a rush to get out of here.

The outside was even livelier and more than it had been earlier in the day. The Irish really had their spirit on cheering, toasting and drinking to their team. Vibrant green fireworks and light whizzes flew up into the night sky.   
  


“Can we stay?” Nel asked excitedly still looking at her surroundings in awe almost like a child in a fair.

“Let’s get out of here,” Her guardian simply dismissed her request.

She frowned slightly and was about to beg Cloelia to stay for a little bit longer.   
  
“I’m going to take care of some stuff mother,” Ellar said ominously he was already walking away when Nel stepped in his way. “Can I go with you?” She asked excitedly twirling a strand of her brown hair in between her fingers. Knowing him he was probably going to party or find some of his Beauxbaton classmates and continue drinking.

He looked at her hard and seemed irritated. He sighed and placed his hands on her shoulders. “No,” he said without any hint emotion before moving her body back to where his mother was standing. Again, she frowned at this.

“Can I go with him? _Please?”_ she asked his mother begging for _any_ excuse to stay behind and party. After all, how often was one at the World Quidditch Cup? Even then it only happened every four years.

“Come on Elowen,” Cloelia said imperatively and turned away.

She had to go home but Ellar got to stay and party? It wasn’t fair.   
He looked so upset, he probably wouldn’t even enjoy it! She would!

With a sharp exhale and no choice, she followed after her guardian. Nel only gave a couple of steps when she heard two familiar voices.  
  
“Could it be?”   
“Is it really?”

She felt a tug on both of her shoulders and was spun only to see the Weasley twins looking at her excitedly. Both were wearing green Leprechaun hats and wore their clothes and faces painted in green and white in full Irish Team spirit.

“We almost didn’t recognize you!” George said. At least who she thought was George she sometimes had a hard time telling them apart.

“We said who’s that girl? Could it be?” Fred said walking around her. “No, Nel Saintday wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a dress in public,” He teased tugging at the fabric of her clothes.   
  
“Who are you here with?” The younger twin asked. “Any other snakes hiding in the tallgrass?” George joked.

She discretely glanced over her shoulder and saw that Cloelia had realized she wasn’t following and was looking around the crowd looking for her.

“No one,” She lied swiftly.

She had often heard Cloelia mocking the “Blood Traitor” Weasleys and laughing at how weak the Prewet family was. She certainly wouldn’t approve of their company and the Weasley’s probably wouldn’t get along with her new guardians.

“We’re about to head back to the tent and celebrate! Want to come?”

Without looking back she locked elbows with them and pulled them away before Cloelia could spot them. Both of them cheered loudly as they dived into the crowd. Vanishing just in time before her guardian could find her.

School started in a week what would be the worst punishment she could do to her during that time? The consequences would be worth it.   
She couldn’t help but laugh as she followed them back to the rest of their group.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, a man whom Nel presumed to be Weasley Sr. judging by his red hair and age and Ginny, their younger sister, were all waiting for the twins. Another man was with them and Hufflepuff’s gem, Cedric Diggory.   
  
There wasn’t a Hogwarts student that didn’t know his name or who he was.   
  
Hufflepuff’s Quidditch Team Captain, Seeker, Prefect and dashingly handsome also known as _Prettyboy Diggory_. The boy was practically perfect. He was the type of Prefect most girls prayed to run into in the school’s corridor’s at night.

“Nel?” She snapped out of her daydream when Harry caught her attention. “What are you doing here?” He asked his friend.

She greeted everyone cheerily. More cheerily and excited than anyone had probably ever seen her, almost giddy. “Why go home? Party is barely getting started right?” She said excitedly rambling over her words and ignoring Harry’s question.

Really – what was the worst thing that Cloelia could do to her? Part of her was also hoping to run into Ellar tonight.   
Maybe he’d be in better spirits then. Maybe the two could share a pint?

“You must be the Slytherin girl,” Mr. Weasley greeted her politely stretching his hand out. A stark contrast to the Malfoys she had met earlier in the day. “Pleasure is all mine Mr. Weasley,” She spoke to him with the same respect she had shown the Ministry of Magic himself. “Nel will do.”

Ron’s sister Ginny was actually really cool. Nel had never had a conversation with her before. Then again, most students tended to avoid her like the plague, seeing as she had been branded as Slytherin’s heir due to being possessed by Voldemort only two years ago. Even Granger was more bearable or maybe Elowen was just in an elated mood.   
Less hostile. More open to others.

The group was all celebrating inside of the Weasley’s small tent. The tent might have been small but inside it was warm and comforting decorated with used furniture and warm tones of red and orange. It was what Nel had always imagined being in the Gryffindor Common Room would be like.

They had all been so welcoming to her. She had never really felt quite at home like in this moment. She was jealous of the Weasley’s they had a caring father, and each other, more than a handful of brothers and sisters to rely and love. They were a real family.

Laughing and cheering could probably be heard from the outside as the twins mocked Ron over his obsession for the Bulgarian Seeker.

There were no tables that kicked you inside here, nobody that minded your manners, nobody watching your mouth or what went inside of it, how you sat, how you stood, how you fucking lived.

“There’s no one like Krum! He’s like a bird the way he rides the wind. He’s more than an athlete. He’s an artist!” Ron was standing on top of a chair literally preaching to the crowd about his devotion to the Seeker.

The twins were bumbling around him comically singing “KRUMMMM” Loudly.   
  
“Think you’re in love Ron?” Ginny teased tugging at her brother’s scarf.   
  
“Viktor I love you! Viktor I do!” George and Fred sang. Harry eventually joined.   
  
“Nel you’re crying,” Hermione pointed out. The Slytherin snapped out of her thoughts and looked down at her mug which held some warm apple cider only to see a stray tear land on it.   
  
“Oh, I didn’t realize,” She touched her wet face wiping away the few tears. “I just feel so at home,” She admitted sheepishly.

Hermione couldn’t help but smile a little. “I never did apologize for stunning you last year, did I?”

“When we’re apart my heart beats only for youuu!” The three males sang around a flustered Ron. Everybody in the tent laughed loudly, but not loud enough to lull over the sound of shouts from the outside.

“Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on,” Fred commented as he ceased to sing.  
  
“Stop! Stop it!” Mr. Weasley interrupted carefully listening. “It’s not the Irish. We’ve gotta get out of here. Now.”

The room growing silent as they listened to the outside screaming, but it wasn’t joyful it sounded more harrowing.

Jumping to their feet everybody crammed to get out of the tent only to enter a whirlwind of chaos.

Panicked people were running everywhere, left and or right with no sense of direction, stumbling over each other like savages. Horrifying, frightful screams echoed the fields. The air smelled like cinder and burning fire. As several tents were consumed by the flames.  
  
“Get back to the portkey everybody and stick together.” He instructed.

Dark figures in pointed hoods all wearing grim masks all holding flaming torches marches across the campsite chanting loud ominous noises. Destroying everything on sight with fire. Some had wands which levitated some individuals which were humiliatingly paraded across the camp.

Instantly the group took off running in one direction.   
Who were those people? Why wasn’t anybody doing anything about this?

Running away from the tent into safety Nel kept her eyes fixed on the back of Ron’s tall frame. Turning back, she realized that someone pushed into Harry.

“Harry!” She shouted stopping dead in her tracks. Heart caught in her throat. She looked around hoping and catch sight of the Gryffindor’s shaggy hair or red clothes.

Blurs of red and green flickered in her vision as she was violently pushed and eventually elbowed to the ground. Instinctively she covered her head with her hands and tucked in her knees into her body assuming a fetal position as she was trampled and stomped on.

She was alone. This was her fault. If she had only listened _for once_ in her damned life. She highly doubted anybody was looking for her.

She should have listened to Cloelia. For the first time in her life she regretted not having listened to an adult. Painful tears slipped down her face as she was once again kicked in the stomach.

She was alone, laying on the ground, breathing heavily. Praying that the rush would be over. Her eyes were shut tightly. A whimper caught in her throat.

Elowen didn’t even realize when a hand reached for the front of her dress. Pulling her back up to her feet. Her eyes snapped open and she found herself paralyzed with fear as she came face to face with a mask of death.   
It was one of those wizards wearing a dark hood. The person was holding her up high so that her tiptoes barely grazed the muddy ground. Her breath strained as she looked down into the void eyes of the mask. Without another word the masked individual dropped her making her stumble back and once again fall on her behind. She couldn’t help but stare for a moment. Wonder in horrifying astonishment at the black hood that was standing before her.

No words were exchanged. If the person wanted to hurt, her it would’ve happened by now.

Not wanting to linger and find out if she was right or wrong, she ungracefully staggered on her feet and feeling sore and beaten she scampered the opposite way.

Her breathing was harsh, adrenaline pumping through her system as she kept on dodging people and continuously looking over her shoulder making sure that hood wasn’t following after her. Looking behind her she turned only to crash into something rigid and solid. She winced and held her head slightly dazed putting another hand on the flagpole she had just run into. Bringing a hand down she saw it was stained with blood.

Elowen was pressed up against the flagpole as masses of people ran by dodging her and the poll as they still escaped the campgrounds. Her eyes were wide with fear, mind turning over a proper spell that could save her.

_“You?_ Merlin’s beard Saintday. Come on now!” Her head whipped back as she was pulled forward and back into the crowd with a strong momentum. A deathly tight grip on her wrist.

It could’ve been the devil himself and she would’ve followed him out of this hell.

“What are you doing here?” She shouted over the loud screaming again crashing into his back when he came to a sudden halt. He ignored her question and dodging desperate individuals led her out of the maze of burning tents.

The two Slytherins stumbled into another one of those dark hoods. Shrinking fearfully, she hid behind him holding on to his arm tightly.

The hood froze and looked past them.

“They won’t hurt us,” He said to her over his shoulder.

Malfoy was right. The hood seemed to move past them leaving them both unharmed. Taking an awry turn finally there seemed to be an open field in sight. Rushing towards it the two seemed to have made it out of the camp and into the plains.

Both were catching their breaths. Nel leaning her weight on her standing knees, a hand pressed against her bleeding brow.  


Draco stood tall kept his eyes peeled for any sight of someone or something emerging from the crowds.

“You’re hurt,” he noted the bloody side of her face.

“What did you mean when you said they wouldn’t hurt us?”

How could he possibly know what those things were and the fact they would be spared from whatever evil intent they had planned.

“Let me see,” He stepped towards her, she stepped back almost tripping over her own feet. He caught her lower arm stabilizing her. “Let me see,” he commanded in a harsher tone, the grip on her lower arm tightening. 

She said nothing and whimpered as she lowered her hand. She could feel a cut of skin which had split right in the start of her eyebrow.

“There you are,” A third voice interrupted in a relieved tone.

Narcissa looked relieved as she apparated between the two teenagers. She didn’t give them a moment to explain herself before latching a hand into each of their shoulders and once again apparating away from the violent scene.

The next thing Nel knew was that everything went black; It was like when she apparated for the first time with Cloelia. She was pressed very hard from all directions as if being squeezed through a tube. The constricting feeling lasted for a moment before they appeared in the heart of a massive parlor room.

Narcissa let go of her and instantly turned grabbing her son’s face in her hands inspecting it for the slightest scratch or bruise. Feeling light-headed Nel leaned her weight on the arm of a sofa chair.

She took a minute to take in her surroundings. Polished dark wood floors, a massive and intricately carved fireplace made out of white marble, matching pillars holding up the high ceiling and a massive crystal chandelier hovering above them.

“Did they hurt you?” She was taken aback when she felt Narcissa’s hands on her face, brushing back her hair to better inspect her wound. Surprised by the gesture she took a solid moment to answer the witch. She figured she meant the dark hoods if anyone.  
“No,” She responded softly. “I ran into a flagpole.”

Nel saw the witch pull out her wand and point it at her.

_“Scourgify,”_ She casted the charm which made the blood, mud and other grime vanish completely from the girl’s person. Again, pointing the wand, she raised it higher to her face. Nel winced slightly when it was inches away from her nose bracing herself for what may come. _“Episkey.”_

Her brow felt very hot and then very cold. Raising her hand to touch her forehead, the wound seemed to have magically closed.

The girl couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it was like to have a mother. To have somebody undevoted care and watch over you like that.

“I’ll send for Clo. She’s probably mortified,” Narcissa straightened up. Not a speck of dust was on her, her appearance composed despite the havoc they had just escaped. “Sit,” She commanded before exiting the room.   
Nel did without a question dropping on the dark colored sofa that was next to her.

“What were you doing out there by yourself?” Malfoy stood before her hands in pockets as he began his interrogation. Like his mother he looked completely unharmed.

“What were _you_ doing out there by yourself? I thought you were supposed to be rubbing shoulders with Krum,” She said holding on to her healed brow which still stung.

Draco had in fact been in the Bulgarian Quidditch Team’s tent. He had even gotten a Quidditch jersey signed by Krum and all of the other players.  
  
Of course, he had known about the attack that was coming. Both him and his mother had seen his father preparing for it earlier in the week. Lucius never spoke directly to the family about his affairs as a Death Eater. It was dangerous considering the consequences if somebody pried into his son’s untrained mind. Draco assumed that his father felt having an alibi would be beneficial for the family in case anybody came pointing fingers.   
Losing his mother on the way out, however, had not been part of the plan. Neither had been seeing Nel Saintday bleeding from the head pressed up against a flagpole in the middle of a stampede.

“I was,” he answered sharply. “Got lost.” He explained casually.

Both were silent for a moment. She looked away from him avoiding his perturbing gaze.

“Merlin, you can be so daft Saintday,” he ran a hand through his hair combing it back. “What were you thinking? Who knows what would’ve happened if I hadn’t found you.”

She would’ve probably stayed attached to that flagpole with an open wound and would’ve waited for the stampede to be over. Overall, she would’ve been fine. There was no need to act upon his savior complex. Or at least that’s what she thought. Who knows maybe one of those hoods wouldn’t have been as merciful to her.

“What did you mean…” She pondered more out loud to herself. “When you said they wouldn’t hurt us?”

Draco swallowed thickly and turned away pretending to be suddenly invested in the fire that was cracking only a couple of feet away from them.

He was relieved when his mother reentered the room with Cloelia who was frantically walking towards here. Face pale, eyes wide with panic.  
“There you are!” She scolded angrily reaching for the girl’s arm digging her nails into the fabric of her sleeve. Nel winced bracing herself for whatever would come when she returned home.

“T-Thank you,” She stammered weakly thanking the Malfoys who probably didn’t even hear her. Clo spoke rapidly about who knows what. Everything happened in a blur. The goodbye, the apparition back in the house of Lestrange and the slap to the face. “I specifically told you not to stray, yet you deliberately disobeyed me! Because of that I will make sure you don’t move anymore. Salazar’s Beard, you don’t know what would happen to _me_ \- _to my family_ if _anything_ happened to you.”

Nel quaked fearfully when she looked down and saw a thorny vine begin to snake around her ankle and up her leg.

“You will not move.”

Back at Malfoy Manor, Draco still stood before the fire. His mother behind him waving her wand at some muddy spots of the ground that needed to be cleaned.

“Mother,” Draco broke the silence the two had shared since Cloelia Lestrange and Elowen Saintday had apparated away. “Yes dear?” Narcissa turned her attention to her only son. His eyes were focused on a particular spot on the ground.

He couldn’t help but think about the special attentions the Lestrange’s had with Nel Saintday. They wouldn’t have taken just anyone in. Much less someone speculated to be a half-blood or lesser than them, and if they did it certainly wouldn’t be out of the kindness of their hearts.   
The strange behavior his father always displayed when the girl was around never sat well with him. The fact his mother had actually bothered to heal her wounds and acknowledge her.

“Who is Elowen Saintday?”


	18. Chapter 18

"By far the most horrifying thing to happen at the World Cup was Saintday's make over," Pansy scoffed bitterly with a deep frown on her features.

Daphne who had been sitting in the same train compartment as Malfoy, Zabini and Parkinson lightly rolled her eyes. She had been growing sick and tired of Pansy's pessimistic attitude and the fact she seemed to criticize everything and everyone around her. She had no doubt the standards also applied to her behind her back.

"I liked it," Daphne said tossing a strand of hair over her shoulder vainly. "You're awfully picky and even you fancied it, didn't you Blaise?"

"Saintday might actually look decent now, but she's still as wicked as a doxy. You can see it in her eyes.” Zabini said lowering the copy of the Daily Prophet he was reading. The cover of it depicting the Dark Mark that had been casted over the Quidditch World Cup campgrounds. “Not that I mind,” He added slimily the edge of his lip turning up.

Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes, he simply kept a disinterested gaze focused on the blurring greens and blues outside of the window.  
Nel’s eyes, doxy like wouldn’t have been how he described them. Maybe he would’ve used the word intense, usually pregnant with a strong emotion be it rage, sadness, mischief and on rare occasions joy. Like when she took the first bite of a lemon tart or whenever Ireland scored back at the Quidditch World Cup. 

“What do you think Draco?” Pansy who looked beyond irritated tossed the question at him. “Hm?” He asked after a moment suddenly caught off-guard.

“See, he didn’t even notice,” Satisfied by his disinterest in the topic. Pansy rolled her eyes towards her friend. “You know what they say. You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear,” She said nastily. “ _Snelly Nelly_ might have a new wardrobe but she’s still a graceless, nameless clod. Even the Lestrange wouldn’t claim her.”

“Stars, Pansy, are you always so unbearable?” Daphne scoffed fully annoyed before standing up and leaving the compartment. Her attitude getting on the last of her nerves.

“What?” Pansy looked at her incredulously a confused look on her pug like face. “Was it something I said?”

Daphne shut the door behind her. Blaise nudged Malfoy who seemed completely out of tune with reality.

“Something on your mind?” The Egyptian boy asked his friend partly concerned but more in a nosey matter.

* * *

_‘Mr. Black,  
  
I really wish we could have had a more proper conversation when we met. I have a lot of questions and it seems like we have reached a miscommunication, so here I am, writing to you ~~demanding~~ asking for an explanation. Seeking answers to unanswered questions. _

_You claimed you ‘saved’ me from some very dark people. Who? Why? How did you find me? Why did you take me away from this ‘bad’ place?  
  
I don’t mean to preach about my miserable young life, but perhaps things would have been better this way. Maybe then I wouldn’t have grown up in a ~~hellish~~ orphanage ~~where I was locked up in a dark room in isolation and starved for most of my life. Or adopted by a Pureblood fanatic who keeps me tied to a chair in a locked room.~~_

__

_~~Why did you steal my life?  
  
~~ _

_~~Why didn’t you kill me?~~ _

__

_Why did you take me?”_

_~~I hope this letter isn’t an inconvenience, but~~ _ _I really need answers._

_E. Saintday.’_

The compartment’s door opened and Nel raised her eyes from the parchment she was currently writing as she lay spread across the emerald green seat.

“Hey Daphne!” Tracey greeted with a chirp as their chamber mate slid into the compartment. Theodore seemed to sit up, run a hand through his hair and lower the book he was reading.

“Greengrass,” Nel acknowledged and lowered her feet when the girl took a seat on the same side as her. She didn’t ask why she had bothered to grace them with her presence much too preoccupied in sealing the letter she would give to Harry when she saw him.

“How are you Elowen?” She greeted politely. “I heard you got lost at the Quidditch match,” she said tucking her skirt under her legs as she took a seat. The girl raised her dark eyes and looked at Theo and Tracey who had probably shared his information with the blonde. Then down at the newspaper she was using to support her writing. The cover of the newspaper of course had the horrifying capture of the Death Mark moving in the front. The fanged skull that had a snake crawling and knotting in a silent scream. It was chilling.

“Are we not going to talk about it?” The girl asked sitting up.

An awkward silence filled the compartment at what the orphan was insinuating. Of course, she had heard the rumors before, of course she knew what kind of people most of the parents of her Slytherin peers were. Death Eaters. Loyal followers of You-Know-Who. People who idolized and worshipped the purity of Wizard blood, or so was what she had gathered from living with the Lestranges. 

“All of you knew. Didn’t you?” She accused with a serious expression.

“Nel, I-I didn’t,” Tracey shook her head. “I was with my dad.” She said defensibly bringing a hand to her chest. Her eyes darted to Theodore who let out an exhausted sight.   
“I knew _something_ was coming, but not- nothing like that,” he said darkly lowering his gaze in shame at the activities his father engaged in.

“Did you?” She analyzed Daphne’s face carefully for any sign of betrayal or evidence she was lying. “No. Dad said he wanted me home early and that’s that.”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek processing their words. As far as she knew the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Not that she had ever heard any of them make any vulgar comments or focus on the blood status of other people.

“You don’t understand,” Theodore slammed his book shut quite dramatically and sat up. His nostrils lightly flaring as his expression turned into an angry one at his friend’s judgment. “I am _not_ my father. I don’t subscribe to that agenda and you know that Elowen and I don’t care what you or anybody else thinks. I am not my father!” He snapped furiously his voice raising in the loud sentence.

The girls all looked a little struck by his anger. It seemed like a nerve had been struck.

“Theo,” Tracey reached out and placed a comforting arm on his shoulder. “We know,” She said quietly.

Just like Theodore didn’t know what happened to Elowen behind Wool’s closed doors or in _La Maison de Lestrange_ she didn’t know what happened to him behind closed doors. All she knew was that his mother had tragically passed away when he was young.

“I understand,” Daphne spoke quietly, toying with her thumbs almost as in shame. “I do think things are easier if, well, bloods don’t mix, but things are far much worse with You-Know-Who around. Him coming back… It would be like a storm with no end. Not just for muggleborns, but for all of us.”

A sullen silence filled the room. The Slytherins looked down in shame, unsure how to continue. How to carry on a conversation that was much too painful and made them vulnerable to each other. The room felt suddenly void of any air. It was almost unbearable. Tracey eyed the small window of the compartment praying that the trolley lady would interrupt and just break the tension between the four.

“In other news-“ Nel butted thankfully and Daphne looked at her confused as she stood on the seat and waved her arms comically as she tried to find her balance. “I’ve got a secret,” She teased mischievously wiggling her eyebrows.

“What is it?” Tracey inquired suddenly sharing her mood for mischief. Relived that somebody had changed the gloomy topic.

“You have to guess,” She teased.

“It could literally be anything,” Theodore protested. “Don’t tell me you’re somehow related to Potter, Weazelbee or some painful sort of story like that.”

Nel smiled wickedly before opening her trunk and pulling out a piece of paper which she now kept hidden under her shirt. “Normally I wouldn’t do this,” She said shrugging casually. “But it’ll give us something else to dissect.”

It was true.

“I met a boy,” she said bringing a hand to her mouth to hide her growing smile.

_“Pretty boy Diggory?”_ Theodore scoffed. “What!” Tracey exclaimed excitedly leaning on the edge of her seat. Daphne looked surprised at her revelation.

_“Under love’s heavy burden do I sink,”_ She struck her chest dramatically as she quoted Shakespeare before collapsing on top of Daphne who lightly shrieked at the impact. She figured none of them would catch that reference. “Let’s keep this in the compartment shall we Daph?” She said directly to the blonde still with a smile on her face.

“Who?” All three leaned forward intrigued sounding more like a chorus of owls than their usual selves.

Nel sat up straight removing herself from Daphne’s lap and pulled out the animated photograph she had been hiding inside of her shirt. Both Tracey and Theodore squinted their eyes taking the picture in their hands looking at the square faced, thin stranger, with dreamy eyes and curly dark waves. They were about to ask who it was when Daphne beat them to it.

_“Ellar Lestrange?”_ She gawped eyes wide at the reveal, being familiar with the older teen.

“Lestrange?” Tracey’s expression twisted to one of pure confusion.

“Isn’t he…” Theo tip toed around the subject. “Your adoptive _brother_?” A smile cracked on his face before her two friends began laughing obnoxiously. “He’s _not_ my brother!” She snapped flustered before snatching the picture back into her safe keeping. He really wasn’t.   
She hoped that Cloelia wouldn’t notice she had swiped it from one of her frames.

“You’re in love with your brother!” Theodore laughed the loudest even clutching his stomach as he tossed his head back.   
“Merlin, that’s revolting Nel!” Tracey added also laughing.

“We are not related,” She stuck her tongue out.

It was true. Her an Ellar were not related by blood as far as she knew. The two looked nothing alike. They didn’t even share the same last name and Cloelia was far from being a motherly figure to her.

“Also, I’m not _in love_ with him,” She rolled her eyes. She really just fancied the boy.

“Sure, you just happen to be carrying a picture of him.”

The three were laughing while Daphne remained extremely quiet. Of course, she was familiar with the young man’s name and infamous reputation.

“Does he fancy you back?” Daphne asked combing her hair in almost a nervous manner. “Well...” Saintday looked up appearing lost in thought for a moment.

Ellar was… odd. He was complicated. He was older. Maybe it was something that came with age.   
  
Somedays he’d be terribly rude, other’s he’d join her in the private study and tell her stories about his days in Beauxbaton and the two would sip some wine behind his mother’s back. He had kissed her hand that one time, he told her he liked her dresses. Sometimes she would catch him starring at her from across the table. However, in the last week- the last time she had seen him was at the Quidditch World Cup. She didn’t know if he had returned home or not. If he had, he hadn’t bothered with seeing or even setting her free from the binds that kept her tied up to the chair in her room for that hellish week.

“I don’t know,” She sighed suddenly sounding tired. “He’s a student at Beauxbaton so he’s going to be at Hogwarts for the year! Maybe, we’ll see,” She said coyly.

Daphne couldn’t sit idly by any longer. She had to say something.   
  
“Oh,” The blonde broke her silence. “You _do not_ want a guy like Ellar Lestrange to like you,” she warned shaking her head slightly. “I have a cousin that worked with him at the French Ministry of Magic, she says he’s, well, _unwell.”_

All three turned to look at Daphne with a confused expression. What did that even mean.

“What I’m trying to say is he’s not the best company to keep around.”

Tracey and Theo looked at their crushing friend somewhat concerned. Nel on the other hand raspberried at Daphne’s warning. 

“Please,” She half scoffed in a dismissive tone. “I live with the bloke. He’s not half bad.”

“Right,” Theo added biting his lower lip. “Because he’s your brother!” Tracey laughed loudly.

Elowen crossed her hands over her chest and sank into her seat casting her friends an irritated look. “Not my brother,” She grumbled under her breath.

Again, he really wasn’t.


	19. Chapter 19

Dumbledore’s wand casted magic over a large box which melded into a large silver goblet made of glass that was containing a bright blue flame.

Students from all over in the Great Hall stood and leaned forward in their seats to have a better look at the price of the Triwizard Tournament. That fancy goblet plus a hefty sum of galleons?   
Nel would’ve probably entered if she was of age just to be able to sink her greedy hands into the hundreds of galleons. The thought of having that money- the things she would do…

Seeing as she hadn’t taken many clients the year prior, she had to get back on her low life business doings of writing essays, passing test notes and hexing people for a living. She’d find the time to practice her Patronus in her own time and hadn’t had a mental breakdown so far which would’ve resulted in something blowing up or being caught on fire in some time.

“The Goblet of Fire!” Dumbledore announced. “Anyone wishing to submit themselves for the tournament merely write their name upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flamebefore this hour on the 31st evening of October. Do not do so lightly, if chosen there's no turning back. As from this moment the tri-wizard tournament has begun!”

The lovely ladies and gentlemen from the Beauxbaton Academy of Magic had been invited to sit at the Ravenclaw table where they would sit for the rest of the year. Nel had a dreamy look on her eyes as she looked at the back of Ellar’s head. He looked so handsome in his eggshell blue uniform. Headmistress Maxine, probably the tallest woman anybody in the Great Hall had ever seen, was to take a seat next to Dumbledore himself.

Our friends from the North. The proud sons and daughters of Durmstrang had on the other hand been invited to sit at the Slytherin table much to the delight of most of the House. Specially the girls who were gawking over Quidditch celebrity Viktor Krum.

Nel was sitting in between Goyle and Theodore. She didn’t mind sitting next to Goyle, he was a good client of hers and usually he never bothered her. Except when it came to the showdown of who had claim over the last turkey drumstick on the table. That’s when the knives came out.

“Oi, Goyle, switch with Saintday so she can sit next to me,” Draco stuck his head out.

Goyle obediently was getting ready to move.

“Excuse me?” Nel shot back with an arched eyebrow. “I’m not switching seats with anyone,” she said territorially.

Draco rolled his eyes and without another word switched with Goyle so he could be sitting next to her. Malfoy and Saintday civilly sitting next to each other a most rare sight to witness in the Great Hall.   
  
“What?” She groaned out irritated by the haughty look on his face. “I’m about to make two galleons and you best be ready to pay up.” She looked at him confused, really not remembering what he had been talking about.

“Viktor!” Draco raised his hand and waved at the Quidditch player who was now walking in their direction.

Malfoy and Krum on a first name basis? _Incredible._

Everybody watched in disbelief as Viktor Krum took a seat in between Malfoy and Goyle. Two other Bulgarians, both equally large, muscular and ruggedly handsome sat in front of him in between Tracey and Daphne. Pansy was staring at one intensely. She didn’t waste a moment before she began to brag about her expensive holiday to Merlin knows where. The two other Durmstrang students introduced themselves as Ivo, tall with long hair held back into a manbun and dark almost black eyes. The other dirty blonde simply said “Marko,” when shooting a flirty smile at Daphne who gladly returned it.

She felt a hand nudge the side of her leg under the table and turned to see Malfoy’s open hand demanding she pay up.

Grumbling under her breath, elbow stinging with stinginess she paid up with bitterness. There went two galleons she was never getting back. He leaned in close and whispered a _“Thank you,”_ in almost a sing song mocking tone. She elbowed his rib warning him to stay away from her which only caused him to let out a stifled laugh.

Being too preoccupied with her minor loss, Nel didn’t notice the way Tracey was staring at Krum who was sitting right in front of her. Both of her elbows were propped to the table and her fingers were knotted before her lips. Eyes boring into his. It almost looked like she was about to interview him.

“Viktor Krum,” She said in a professional tone not even blinking before stretching out her hand. “Tracey Davis,” She said sounding official when he looked at her hand funny and shook. Tracey would make sure that Krum remembered that name no matter what.

Her fascination with Krum, it wasn’t the typical girlish one. It seemed more of a business relation. “Remember that name,” She said ambitiously.   
“I’ve seen you play before. Not impressed.”

Marko choked on his drink, brown eyes blowing wide at the comment. Everyone looked at the Quidditch fanatic in shock.   
  
_“Vot?”_ Krum eyed her with an antagonizing look. Eyes narrowing at the girl sitting in front of him. How did Tracey have the _audacity_ to say that to a World Class Seeker.

“Shut up Davis!” Pansy snapped horrified at her comment. “You can’t even make the Slytherin Quidditch Team!” She added nastily causing several Quidditch players in the table to laugh cruelly. It was true, for the past three years Tracey had tried out for the Slytherin Quidditch team and for one reason or another she never really made the cut.

_Ouch._

Rumor was that the Slytherin Quidditch team didn’t take any ladies, which only made Tracey more motivated to break the glass ceiling and make it to the team.

The Quidditch fanatic ignored them and kept her focused gaze on Krum. The entire table gawking with astonishment.  
  
“You might be quite agile, but…” Tracey proceeded to explain on an elaborate Quidditch strategy. One which attacked all of Krum’s weaknesses, (if they were any, really). She also spoke about playing on some of his strengths, like agility, balance and the creativity he had when riding a broom. “… like using your sloth grip roll, I think it could’ve been a great offensive when countering Lynch in the last game.”

All students in the Slytherin table were silent. Forks being held midair, mouths agape all expecting Krum’s volatile reaction at the unnecessary advice and unwanted feedback.

“In total this would probably increase your turnover ratio and shorten the average time it takes you to capture and catch the snitch.”

Absolute and utter silence. With the exception of other students conversing and enjoying their dinners on other tables.

_“Exa,”_ Viktor spoke after a moment in his native Bulgarian. “Vot did you say your name vas again?” To everyone’s surprise he cracked a smiled and let out a short laugh.

Tracey grinned triumphantly. Leave it to her to make friends with Krum in the most unconventional of ways. She babbled on excitedly about how disappointed she was there would be no Quidditch this year because of the Triwizard Tournament and that regardless of it she was still planning on following her rigorous morning exercise training. To everyone’s _SHOCK_ Krum asked if he could join.

Nel was gawking with her eyes narrowed in blatant disbelief when she heard her name sound behind her in a long, nasal, draw which she was more than familiar with. She turned to see Professor Snape standing behind her, arms crossed behind his back, his typical bored scowl on his sallow face.

“My office. Now.” He interrupted, demanding her presence.

Several _“Oooooooooohs,”_ sounded in the Slytherin table.

“First day and you already have detention?” Theo whispered to her disbelievingly. She let out an irritated sigh before standing up and following after the Potions Master. Great. What now?

“I don’t pretend to know or care about your whereabouts over the course of the summer,” He began in a _most_ welcoming tone when they arrived at his office. Yes, that was sarcasm. “However, seeing as you have been placed under the guardianship of the Lestranges I will ask. How was your holiday Saintday?” He said to her as he rounded around his desk and took leaned forward looking at her with expectant eyes.

For a moment Elowen flashbacked to her summer. Worse things had happened to her than being held hostage in a painful etiquette school.

“It was fine,” She responded flatly.

“And your… dysfunctional emotional control?” He raised his eyes leaning his weight on his palms.

“It’s fine,” She was about to say but before she could react, he raised his wand at her and peered inside of her mind. Grappling with the sudden invasion she struggled to stand, knees growing weak and slowly sat on the chair across from his desk. Visions of arriving at the House of Lestrange suddenly flashed. The dining table that kicked, being under the command of the Imperio curse, meeting Ellar, sipping wine in the private study, the taste of wine that awful bitterness that made goosebumps erect on her arms, trying to hold Ellar’s hand while he showed her the diving cliffs behind his house, arriving at Malfoy Manor after the Quidditch World Cup–

“That’s _private,”_ She rasped, wincing at the mental strain. Not wanting him to know what she saw, what she felt.

_“Nothing is private to the Dark Lord.”_

Having a mental shut down she envisioned a large, metal safe box one which shut Snape out and locked itself the combination dial spinning a couple of times before clicking shut loudly.

“What?” She breathed out beyond perplexed, snapping out of the mental trace. She looked at him both of her eyes blown wide at the shocking revelation.

“Mediocre at best, but holds promise,” the professor acknowledged. Which coming from Snape could’ve been considered praise.

Still in shock at his words she narrowed her eyes at him with suspicion. “What did you say professor?” she raised a hand at him asking him to stop with his mental invasion. “About the Dark Lord?” She specified after receiving a deafening silence as an answer.

Professor Snape looked deep in thought, almost as if he was rehearsing a game of wizard’s chess in his head. One that had each and every move carefully calculated.  
  
“Are you really so daft you’ve barely realized I have been teaching you Occlumency lessons for the past year?”

_“Occlumency?”_ she repeated the unfamiliar term. A term Hogwarts student didn’t learn until their fifth or sixth year. A lesson or magical art that wasn’t even in the school’s curriculum.

“Occlumency, the art of magically closing one’s mind against Legilimency, or mind readers,” Snape explained. “Do try and keep up Saintday,” he drawled out sounding almost irritated as he lectured the fourth-year student.

She processed this lecture for the first time, actually taking it and remaining silent for a moment as she soaked in the severity of the teaching. All the time the professor had sacrificed to sit with her and lecture her about this art. Nobody in their right mind would put somebody through such a painful process if it weren’t to bear any fruits.

“Why?” She asked shaking her head slightly at his perplexing generosity. “Why do I need to learn Occlumency? What does this have to do with the Lestranges?” 

Snape looked deep in thought as pondered on what his next move would be taking proper time to properly choose what his next words would be and what they would symbolize. Both weighting the impact and significant momentum they would have on the young lady standing before him.

“You’re more than familiar with the events that transpired at the Quidditch World Cup this summer.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. Somehow, someway, Snape knew she had been there. Or at least that she was aware of the current events that had transpired only some days ago.

“I was there,” She admitted eyeing the copy of the Daily Prophet that some of her fellow house mates had been reading the same day earlier. Her eyes were particularly focused on the vivid moving image of the Dark Lord’s mark knotting in the dark skies giving her an eerie feeling.  
  
“The Lestranges had the reputation of being one of the most devoted followers of You-Know-Who.” Snape approached her rounding around her with his head help up high and hands held behind his back. “Some of them preferred the kiss of death or even rotting in the cells of Azkaban for eternity rather than denouncing the Dark Lord’s name…” She looked over her shoulder to see a obscure look suddenly flash over Snape’s pale features. From the way he was speaking, it almost sounded as if _he_ was a dark follower of Voldemort. At this point, she wouldn’t have been surprised. Snape was cold, cruel, abusive to an extent, but there was some humanity to him. It was hard to read where his allegiances would truly lie.   
“I hope you don’t think their guardianship and sudden interest in an orphan… _like you_ … stems from the kindness of their… hearts.”

The girl couldn’t help but mock at the professors studied words. “What, would they, possibly, want with me?” She spoke slowly pronouncing each and every word and sentence in the same dramatic tone and with the same weighted emotion that he did, yet hers was mocking, almost sarcastic.   
“I’m just an orphan,” she said dully and that she was.   
  
No name, no claims to any fortunes, no blood rights or privileges.   
  
“An orphan who speaks Parseltongue.”   
  
She was silent at the statement.   
  
“Do you know who was infamous for speaking to snakes as well?” She could feel the professor standing right behind her. Still silent she simply nodded. She had studied this in one of her many detentions with the professor.  
Salazar Slytherin? Harry Potter? Harpo the Foul? Were only a few names of other fluent Parselmouths through history; However, that was not the he was seeking and she knew it.   
  
“Voldemort,” she recognized.

Snape arched a most intriguing eyebrow at her response.

“Dare you, utter his name, “ he rounded about her and returned to his desk.   
  
“You-Know-Who, is quite a mouthful, Sir,” She replied snidely with just the edge of her lips turning up in a sly leer at having earned a reaction out of the professor.

“This isn’t a laughing matter Saintday!” He suddenly snapped almost like that time she had gifted him the gloves to him on Christmas when he lost it. He slapped his hands on his desk and glared dangerously. Nel flinched at the harshness in his tone.

“Why sir?” She pressed, more curious than intimidated. “Would the _Dark Lord_ want _me?_ He himself is fluent in Parseltongue. He doesn’t need me. _”_

Keeping his gaze lowered, Snape braced himself for what he was about to admit or reveal to the _Girl Who Died._ He took in a deep breath bracing himself both emotionally and intellectually for what was to follow. Whatever he was about to say had to be said carefully.

“He doesn’t need you _for that.”_ The Professor looked at her with his dark eyed zeroed in on her stunned expression. He knew. Snape knew, he had always known who she was, where she came from, the countless of secrets and questions that to this day burdened her.   
  
“Then for what?” She jumped to her feet, a furious look on her face.

Snape was silent.   
  
“I know Sirius Black was the one that left me at the Abbey! I know somebody had me! I know that I am cursed! I know they did unspeakable things to me!” She shouted at him willed with rage. She was practically heaving when she pulled out her wand and pointed it at her professor with meaning to offend.

“You’ll tell me,” She threatened ardently, a deep grimace on her face.   
“You’ll tell me! Now!” She exclaimed voice cracking, hand slightly shaking as she steadied her grip. Heart in her throat suddenly making it hard to breath.

Regardless of her offense Snape remained calm and collected.   
  
“Or what?” He arched a black eyebrow again flashing her an intrigued look yet remaining completely unamused. “You’ll make my head swell like a balloon? Make me vomit slugs?”

She faltered slightly, lowering her want. Yet she did not lower her weapon or eyes from his direction. She meant it. She would hurt him if she had to. Professor or not, more skilled or not. She wouldn’t hesitate in attacking.   
“You tell me,” she barked out heatedly.

“You are more naïve than I originally perceived if you think there is any possibility that your childish spells will have any effect on me,” He said calmly walking around his desk with his guard lowered and pulling out what looked like a wine bottle from underneath.

“Tell me!” She demanded with a scream.

The professor remained cool, “Sit,” he ordered in an icy voice as he uncorked the bottle he had reached for. With his same hand he dove into his drawers and pulled out two chalices with his fingers. Setting them on the desk he proceeded to pour an orange golden liquid into both of them. Was he giving her alcohol?

“Lulo juice,” He began to explain almost as if he could’ve heard the unasked question. It was just juice. “Fine extract from a rare nightshade.”

Taking the chalice in her hand she looked at the juice with suspicion. Something was off. Looking up she saw his judging eyes carefully watching her before he brought the chalice to his mouth and drank. She hadn’t seen him slip anything into it and he was also drinking it.  
Hesitantly she did the same when she suddenly caught a whiff of Valerian springs.

She hadn’t made a mistake. She couldn’t trust Snape.   
Especially when he was attempting to drug her with forgetfulness potion.

In what seemed like a half of a second the chalice slipped from her hands and again she pointed her wand at him.

_“Petrificus T-“_

She wasn’t fast enough.

_“Obliviate!”_

* * *

A brunette wearing a Slytherin uniform walked around the corridors of Hogwarts at night. A dazed look on her face as she looked up at the many moving and talking portraits with much intrigue.

She seemed lost in thought or wonderment at the moving pictures.

“Nel!” She heard someone call her name. Still with a misty look on her face she turned down the corridor to look at somebody familiar. A friend? What was his name again? Right, Harry who was walking with Fred or George was it? and Hermine. 

“Hiya,” She said with a loopy smile.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Harry said. “What happened to you after the Quidditch match?”

She gave him a confused look. Quidditch? What was he talking about?

“We lost you,” Hermine said.

“We looked for you,” The red head added with a concerned look.

“We couldn’t find you,” the girl again added for her friend.

“You-You never answered any of my letters,” Harry said sounding hurt.

“Quidditch?” She had to ask for further clarification.

The three Gryffindors all shared a perplexed look amongst themselves.

“The Quidditch World Cup?” The tall ginger boy said narrowing his eyes with the same confusion he shared with his friends.

“Oh, right,” She shook her head slightly. “Sorry Fred. Guess it slipped my mind,” She smiled at the three sheepishly. “Luckily, I made it out safe. No harm done.”

“Fred?” Ron said sounding even more puzzled.

“She’s been obliviated,” Hermione suddenly realized as she took in the lack of recent memory and dazed and confusion the girl seemed to be displaying as a symptom.

“Obliviated?” Harry looked at Hermione with surprise. “Like Lockhart?”

“But why?”

Hermione stepped closer taking a look at the Slytherin’s dazed expression. She seemed unharmed, just stunned and confused. This had to had been done recently.

“She seems to remember the game. So, a particular memory must have been extracted from her. She should regain full consciousness in a couple of hours.”

The boy with glasses stepped forward and reached for her arm carefully. “Nel where are you coming from? Who did this to you?”

The perplexed look on her face was the answer he needed.

“Right- never mind,” He said awkwardly. “I’ll get you back to the Slytherin Common Room,” he said leading her to the side.

“We’re glad you’re okay!” Hermione called after the two as they made their way to the dungeons.

Harry escorted Nel down the stairs and into the dungeon where the Slytherin Common Room was located.

“Nel,” He licked his chapped lips. “Why didn’t you answer any of my letters?” He asked hoping she wouldn’t be confused enough to not give him an answer.

“Oh?” She gave him an odd look. “I was tied up to a chair for a week with Astringe Snare,” she explained her cruel reality witch ease and casualness.

“What?” He stammered suddenly looking at her with disbelief. Part of Harry was hoping delusion was a side effect of having been obliviated.

“Hmm? What?” She mused casually as she walked with her hands held behind her back. “It’s like Devil’s Snare, you know?”

Never in a million years would Elowen Saintday have admitted to something like this in her fully five senses. Pain was something she internalized and compartmented, nothing something she shared with others. It would then become a vulnerability and being vulnerable simply made you prey to worse things in the world.

She would’ve never said this to another soul, much less to Harry Potter.

“I know what Astringe Snare is!” Harry shook his head and pulling on her arms brought her to a halt. “Who did this to you?”

“My guardian.” Again, another admission.

Harry was stunned. He looked at her with his eyes wide. A lot more things made sense now. Like Nel’s inability to conjure a Patronus. Her hostility around others, violent outburst, low self-esteem. But Harry didn’t pity her, if anything he understood. It was the kind of life he was also familiar with.

“Did you-?“ He began. “Did they-?” he wanted to ask more questions yet couldn’t bring himself to do it. His morbid curiosity demanding more details. “Are you okay?” He finally asked with apprehension.

“Me?” She shrugged with a knotted eyebrow. “Are any of us ever really okay?”

Fair point.

“Nel,” he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I…,” He lowered his eyes. Having also never conversed about the abuse he endured at the hands of the Dursley’s for years. The neglect, all those sleepless nights locked up without dinner in the dusty cupboard with spiders as his sole company. It wasn’t only the physical abuse, there was also the emotional part of it. Being called worthless and constantly being reminded that you’re waste of space by your family, people who are supposed to care and love you, could be really painful. The hitting with kitchen spoons and whooping with belt buckles whenever he lost control of his magical abilities-

Harry knew what it was like.

“I know what it’s like,” he also admitted.

Something he had never revealed to another soul be it Ron or Hermione.

“I understand,” he said in a low voice. “I also…” He choked on his words, being unable to speak with the sudden knot that had formed in his throat. “If you ever want to, you know, talk about it,” He offered awkwardly.

Still under the aftereffects of a memory loss charms she still look a little confused, but it seemed like she had grasped the concept of what Harry was saying to her. Simply smiling at him sweetly.  
  


For some reason Harry didn’t feel like she meant it or that it was a sincere smile. If Nel had actually been in her five senses she might’ve bit him for putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Having a late-night stroll with your _girlfriend_ Potter?”

Of course.

Draco Malfoy suddenly entered the dungeon, being escorted by his two loyal followers Crabbe and Goyle who tailed a step or two behind him.

“Are you my boyfriend?” The girl asked cluelessly, remaining unbothered by the question.

“No,” Harry simply answered. He kept his green eyes focused on Malfoy as he descended the steps. She nodded at his answer. “Hey, who’s the cute blond?” She whispered to Harry with a slight grin on her features. 

Harry didn’t know if the question made him want to laugh or vomit. She giggled at his reaction.

“Something funny Saintday?” Malfoy threateningly stepped up and sneered getting really close to her. The Slytherin girl didn’t flinch back at the invasion of space. Instead she wore a lazy smile and a dazed look in her eyes. It took him less than a moment to realize there was something off.

“Your face is funny,” She shot back with a lame come back before once again giggling at what seemed to be a very personal joke.

“What did you do to her?” Malfoy accused, his silver eyes darting towards Potter. Wand already drawn in an offensive stance.

Harry did the same. “Me? It was probably one of you snakes,” He glared with disdain.

Hissing sounds echoed the chamber at the mentioning of the word snake and all eyes turned to the Parselmouth in the room.

“What’s she saying?” Goyle asked Harry with an uneasy look on his face.

Gibberish really. 

Harry ignored his question and gave a step back. “I found her wondering lost in the hallways. Looks like she’s been obliterated.”

The three Slytherins looked shot at the revelation.   
  
“And I’m not leaving until Davis or Nott come out and get her,” Harry stated boldly pointing his weapons at all three of the Slytherins not flatering in his words.

Draco looked at his rival for a moment, an unamused expression on his face. “And they say chivalry is dead,” he sneered with a mocking laugh which made his friends follow in suit and also laugh.   
“She’s one of us. We’ll take it from here, Potter.”

With that he nodded his head to the side and without any question Goyle put a meaty claw on the girl’s shoulder and roughly pulled her away from Harry’s side and into theirs. Where she simply stood eyeing her surroundings and the two hulking gorilla boys that were standing next to her.

“I’m not-“ Harry was silence when the wand was again raised to his face. Draco stepped forward glowering at him with hatred. It was that same look he had given both him and Hermione on top of the Dark Tower the night they had helped Sirius escape _‘Not a word.’_

Harry wouldn’t have trusted Malfoy with anything, much less with a stunned person, but he had taken care of his friend before. Maybe Malfoy was vile and rotten, but what choice did Harry have?   
He wasn’t wrong she was one of them and odds were they weren’t fetching Davis or Nott any time soon.

If Malfoy had successfully managed to care for her once he could do it again. Right?

However, how odd- for two people that are constantly jumping at each other’s throats for them to care so much about the other at the same time.

Without another word Harry turned away and left.   
  


The boys escorted the dazed Slytherin inside the Common Room.

Nel was looking in awe at the large dark shadows of creatures swimming that could be seen from the tinted windows of the common room.

“Will she be okay?” Crabbe asked sounding almost concerned before retreating. “I’m really going to need someone to write my Defense Against the Dark Arts papers for me this year.”

Draco fought the terrible urge to roll his eyes. However, he couldn’t help but glare as his two friends retreated.

The moment they were gone he turned to the girl who was blankly starring at him.

“Who did this to you?” He demanded to know. If he could put his money on it, he would’ve betted for that slimy French bastard. He did not trust him one bit. Hell, he even preferred bloody Saint Potter to that frog.

“Who?” She repeated still confused.

“Yes. Who?” He insisted.

“Who? Who?” She pressed.

“WHO?”

“You sound like an owl,” She laughed obnoxiously before slapping a knee only making him angrier.

“Sit.” He said. It wasn’t a request; it was an order. When she didn’t comply, he placed his hands on her shoulders and lead her to a sofa chair where he gently pushed her down to the cushioned seat.

“What is the last thing you recall?”

Looking as if she was deep in thought, she scratched her chin perplexed. As hard as she tried to wind her memory it was completely blank, a whole chunk of it having been removed from her consciousness.   
“I don’t know… I was looking at some paintings?”

“We were in the Great Hall having dinner-” he began. The blank look on her face made it evident that she did not remember that. “Davis harassed Krum to be her friend-“ Again a blank stare. Looking for a prop he pulled of two golden galleons from his pocket. “You lost a bet?”

“Hey! That’s mine!” She suddenly exclaimed greedily reaching for his hand.

Leave it to Saintday to remember that. She could’ve been a niffler in another life. Fisting the money away with a teasing leer edging his mouth he put it away. “Bet’s a bet. I don’t care if you’ve been obliviated or not.”

Question was who? And why?

He frowned at her slightly before taking a seat in the sofa chair across from her.

  
“Snape told you to meet him in his office. Did you ever make it?”

She shrugged with a pursed smile, raising her arms up.   
Did she ever make it? Snape was a slimy git too, but why would he obliviate a student? What could she have possibly done? Or what could she possibly known or witnessed that would compromise someone in such a way they had to obliviate her?

* * *

At the same time Snape anxiously paced back in forth in the Headmaster’s office. A deep canyon had formed in between his eyebrows from the deep scowling he couldn’t seem to be able to stop. He ran his hands through his greasy hair anxiously and repeatedly always pushing it back over his forehead as he paced from one side of the room to the other.

“She’s not ready Severus,” Dumbledore, looking down at the man from his half-moon glasses looked at him seriously with both of his held hands falling on his standing lap.

“She’ll never be ready!” The other man snaped back. “There is no humane way to prepared someone for that type of revelation.”

Angry. Snape fought the urge to kick over a small table, to pull the curtains down and scream, he fought the urge to destroy something, maybe even himself. His shoulders weighted down with all the guilt his soul bore. Dark flashbacks came to him about what happened during that obscure night. The cries of a dark creature still fresh in his memory, the shattered stone, the pain that came with the tolling price of practicing such dark magic.

“What do you recon we do?” Eyes darting across the room, Snape’s black ones finally focused on Dumbledore. “Wait for the Dark Lord to seize her? She’s already under the guardianship of the Lestranges and closer to him than ever!”

“It is her purpose,” Dumbledore said coldly with much indifference. “As I’ve told you before, it does not matter where Elowen Saintday resides, the Dark Lord will find her. How many more lives must be lost?”

Snape looked at him darkly. Dumbledore had been the one to send the order to terminate the existence of this child… or well… thing, whatever it was that she was. Of course, he would have an indifference to whether she lived or not. She served no purpose to him.   
She wasn’t ‘ _The Chosen One’_ if anything she was the antithesis to that.

“She’s a child,” Snape looked absolutely torn. “She has a soul, feelings. I have witnessed not only her rage and horrors, but her empathy as well.”   
  
For a brief moment he flashbacked to that Christmas Day when she gifted him the most atrocious gloves he had ever seen. Perhaps they were beyond repair and useless at its best, but what they meant…   
It was a reminder that the child standing before him was in fact human. She was capable of feeling not just darkness but love, care and empathy amongst all other emotions that make humans, human.  
  
It wasn’t fair that she had been brought into this world and branded to fulfill the Dark Lord’s ill purposes. In truth Nel Saintday was an abomination, the type of creature muggles would describe as a monster in lore and tales of horrific terror. How could one stop the world from turning? Save her from her own horrific destiny? Her life wasn’t fair, none of it was from the moment of her creation to what her horrible demise would be.

Whatever she was, whatever thing or creature she was, she should’ve been empty and void of all emotions. A creature like her shouldn’t be able to feel.

“She’s cursed Severus. You know she has already been branded as his. The stars are written on her face.” Dumbledore stepped forward to attempt and bring some comfort to the anguished man.

“She needs to know.”

Albus looked at his most loyal follower with sad eyes before placing a comforting touch on his shoulder. “The time will come,” he said. “When everything will fall into place. Secrets will be unraveled, and prophecies will be fulfilled. For now,” He stepped back and with a lost gaze focused his eyes on the crackling fireplace that warmed his cold office. “It is best that Ms. Saintday remain under our care and in this institution. For now, she’ll be most safe here at Hogwarts.”


	20. Chapter 20

There was a blank space in Elowen's timeline, and she hadn't even realized it. It wasn't until Harry reminded her before a Transfiguration class one day about what had happened the other day in the school's corridor.   
That when she knew there was something very wrong.   
Apparently, the last person she had been seen with was Professor Snape. And, so she decided to ask the professor himself about her absence of memory. He simply said she had successfully made it to his office for a lesson and left. He guessed she had probably crossed or upset a Seventh-Year or so who had done this to her, which given her reputation as a troublemaker wouldn't be too surprising.

However, that had been days ago.

Presently Elowen was sitting in the Quidditch pitch stands cheering for Tracey who was training her Quidditch skills with Madame Hooch and some other enthusiastic players.   
Random students were scattered amongst the stands sporadically and she couldn't help but notice a particularly excited Hufflepuff girl that was taking photographs of the training at the very front. She was almost acting as if she was at the Quidditch World Cup and not some random practice. Somewhere in the audience sat that ghost that Nel had met last year.   
What was it that Malfoy had called him? Sulking Simon?

She couldn't help but stare at the transparent ghost. He wasn't like the other ones in the castle who seemed to have lived hundreds of years ago.  
He was modern even more than Moaning Myrtle.   
He wore a Hogwarts uniform too however; she couldn't tell what color his robes had once been. She didn't think he'd notice her blatant starring and became startled when he actually turned to shoot a nasty look in her direction.

"I know you're wondering," he spoke. If alive he would've probably been around the same age. She looked away hoping he wouldn't approach her and continue the conversation, but he did.   
"Everybody wonders." He added taking a seat next to her.

She tried not to converse with the ghostly boy and focused on keeping her head forward and eyes focused on Tracey who was performing some very elaborate flying loops at the moment.

"All I know is that I was killed," he sighed miserably, sinking into the bleachers, half of his translucent body vanishing.

She didn't want to interact with him, but her morbid curiosity got the best of her. "By a flying bludger?" She guessed.

"No," He spat at her with narrowed eyes. An angry expression crossing his features. "Dying is strange-" He said once again levitating to her side, his voice sounding calmer. "I don't remember how it happened, when or what it felt like, but I remember my friends were there."

"Your friends?" She questioned.

"I was tricked. Dared to come down here at midnight." He explained with bitter resentfulness.

"What?" She asked intrigued turning her legs in the direction of the ghost.

"Sorry we're late!" Distracted she turned back to see Theodore and Daphne who were reaching her side. Again, turning she saw that the ghost had vanished. Great. Just when the story was getting good.

"Hey!" She greeted standing up and gathering her bag. "Glad you guys could make it, I think they're almost done," She said standing up and getting ready to leave.

"Where are you going?" Daphne asked as she took a seat next to Theodore.

"Detention before dinner. Remember Defense Against the Dark Arts?" She said to the two, who sighed remembering the disturbing episode of the

first day of DaDa class.

* * *

_So far they have had a werewolf, an idiot, and Voldemort himself as a professor. How bad could Professor Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody be?_

_"Alastor Moody," The former Auror wrote his name on the board with chalk, dotting the 'y' harshly before turning to glare at his students. His mechanic mad blue eye darting and twitching as it focused on their bored faces._

_  
"_ _Ministry malcontent. And your new defense_ _against the dark arts teacher. I'm here because Dumbledore asked me, end of story, goodbye, the end. Any questions?"_

_There wasn't a single hand raised up. Even Hermione kept her hand down and observed with kooky professor with apprehension.  
_ _  
"When it comes to the dark arts, I believe in a practical approach. But first, which of you can tell me how many unforgivable curses there are?"_

_Alright, maybe Mad-Eye was more competent than some of their former professors. By now Lockhart would've made the class take a quiz on what his favorite color was and Quirrel would've barely finished stuttering out his name._

_Hermione raised a hand to the air, eager to participate. After a moment passed and he didn't call on her she decided to answer, "Three, sir."_

_"And they are so named?" He asked without missing a beat._

_"Because they are_ _unforgivable," Hermione answered on cue "Use of them will..." Moody then interrupted before beginning to scribble madly on the board._

_"Will earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban. Correct. Now the ministry says you're too young to see what these curses do. I say different!  
You need to know what you're up against, you need to be prepared, you need to find somewhere else to put your chewing gum other than the underside of your desk Mr. Finnigan!"   
How on Earth had he seen that with his back to the class? !_

_"Aw no way, the old codger can see out the back of his head," The Gryffindor spoke what everybody in the room seemed to be thinking._

_Mad with sudden anger the professor threw the chalk he was holding all the way across the room in Seamus Finnigan's direction. The boy barely managed to dodge it._

_"So, which curse shall we see first?" His head turned around the classroom for a second. "Weasley!" He exclaimed._

_Ron's face turned white, "Yes..." He squeaked comically._

_Mad-Eye Moody proceed to describe and actually practice the Three Unforgivable classes before the class. First was the Imperius one. A curse that made Elowen visibly stiffen enough for Tracey to nudge her side and ask her if she was okay. Even Harry noticed this from across the room. A large spider was thrown across the room levitated over an unsettled class._

_"Don't worry, completely harmless," he said dangling it on top of Ron's red hair. It almost looked as if he was going to pass out.  
"But if she bites... She's lethal!" He cackled as he dropped the spider. Rom grimaced in horror. _

_Across the classroom several Slytherins laughed loudly._

_"What are you laughing at?"_

_Moody then tossed the spider across the room for it to land on Draco's face. Which was cue to the Gryffindors to laugh just as loudly as he let out a high-pitched scream that even made some of the Slytherins bring cover mouths to hush their laughs. He turned pink from the embarrassment after slapping the spider away from his face._

_Moody proceeded to showcase the second spell. The Cruciatus curse. This time particularly picking on a tall Gryffindor boy. Nel didn't remember ever speaking to him, but she did remember stealing his toad in the Hogwarts express during their first year. The Professor proceeded to torture the spider with magic. The arachnid wriggled and squeaked loudly with pain. Its limbs crumbling up and bending in unnatural ways as he did so._

_Longbottom stood seeming as if he himself was the one being tortured. A look of twisted pain crossed his features as his eyes blankly starred at the spider. Nobody said anything. Students held their breaths._

_Disturbed, Nel didn't realize she was leaning over her desk to take a look closer at the spider with morbid fascination._

_"Stop it!" Granger interrupted. "Can't you see it's brothering him? Stop it!" She shrieked as she looked back at the disturbed boy._

_The professor ceased his torture and saw the pained expression on the student's pale face. The spider which was still crying out and squeaking was placed in the desk before Hermione who looked at it horrified._

_"Perhaps you could give us the last unforgivable curse Miss Granger?"_

_Equally disturbed. Hermione shook her head weakly, biting back painful tears in empathy for the spider. Other marveled in disbelief at the fact that Know-It-All Granger had grown quiet from the distressing experience._

_"The Killing Curse," A soft voice which sounded loud in the deafening silence in the room turned all heads to the Slytherin side of the room. Tracey looked at her desk mate with some concern in her surprised eyes._

_"Ah," Moody again lifted up the spider and instead placed it in front of her desk. "The Lestrange girl, are you?"_

_"It's Saintday," She corrected. "The one and only," Nel added in what would've been usually been a playful tone but this time came out a serious._

_"Interested in the Dark Arts?" He leaned in close. His twitching large blue eye starring down, almost as if memorizing every inch of her face. Despite the uneasy closeness the girl remained composed and silence was her answer. Moody brought a flask to his lips and took a long sip before trembling and turning his attention back to her. Bet whatever is in there isn't pumpkin juice, that's for sure._

_"Professor Flitwick says you're quite adept at Charms," he licked his lips, or his tongue stuck out she wasn't sure which was which uncontrolled gesture he had done. "As does Professor Babbling." The Professor of Study of Ancient Runes. An elective which most students dreaded but the Slytherin actually found to be interesting despite the thick textbooks she had to read._

_"I'm interested in spell works and the origins of them," She finally answered with her hands knitted together resting on the desk._

_"Very well then," Mad-Eye gave a step back. "If you could demonstrate the third and final Unforgivable Curse?"_

_Murmuring scattered around the room at what the Professor was suggesting. Was that ethical? Let alone legal? Eager eyes watched in morbid fascination, some betting hostile Saintday wouldn't hesitate in killing the spider._

_Nel looked down at the spider which miserably twitched before her on the desk. If anything, it would be a mercy kill._

_"No," She refused sternly._

_She was sure that this was probably illegal. Moody did not seem pleased. His eye rolled around wildly and his bulldog like jaw clenched tightly._

_"For the sake of teaching I will now demonstrate how the Imperius curse works on a human. Thank you for volunteering Ms. Saitnday."_

_Hermione was about to cry out how illegal that was before with a flick of his wand her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth rendering her silent._

_He pointed his wand back to the girl sitting before him and in horror the class saw as through a strained breath, with shaking shoulders she was brought to her feet. Anger blazing in her eyes. The feeling of not being in control more than familiar and frustrating. It was just like back under Cloelia's roof._

_Not being in ownership of your own body. She couldn't think of anything more dehumanizing._

_She resisted. Teeth grinding. Jaw clenching tightly._

_'Do it,' she could hear Moody's hypnotizing words echoing inside of her head. 'You know the words,' he continued. 'You will enjoy it...'.  
She wanted to do it. Her body was moving to do it. It would be fast, it would be a mercy kill, it was for the greater good._

_Her arm trembled as her hand was raised wand being pointed at the pitiful spider._

_Resist. Fight it. Control yourself._

_That wasn't her voice. It was Snape's. His voice was echoing the chambers of her mind. It had become ingrained after sessions with him.  
There it was again, that mental image of a metal safe slamming shut, the dial spinning wildly before clicking and shutting Professor Moody out._

_"Attack!" She shouted in a foreign tongue as a snake erupted from the tip of her wand and launched directly at the professor's face._

_Somebody in the back shouted, "You attacked a professor!"_

_Some students loudly shrieked at the large snake in the room. Moody actually grabbed it with a hand and threw the hissing snake out of the classroom's window in one swinging motion. Further disturbing the class._

_"Avedra Kedravra!" Moody said and for a moment Nel thought he was pointing at her but instead the suffering spider that was in her desk let out one final squeak before turning over dead in a flash of a bright green light._

"The killing curse. Only one person is known to have survived it. And he's sitting in this room," he shifted his and the class's focus to Harry. Without another word Nel packed up her books and walked out of the classroom fuming ignoring the looks she was getting, or Tracey's concerned "Are you okay?"

* * *

After that episode Mad-Eye had been reprimanded with a slap to the wrist. He explained he was applying old teaching methods and that he would soon use the Imperious curse on the entire class so they could learn how to resist it. 

On the other hand, Nel had to serve detention with a teacher of McGonagall's choice. Seeing as Sprout needed the help she was assigned to her. 

"I have to catch some rats that are eating Sprout's shrivelfigs," She explained with a lazy shrug. Let's be real, there could be worse punishments. 

Daphne winkled her nose in disgust. Theo shook his head running a nervous hand through his hair at the memory of the first DaDa class. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked sincerely with concern. 

She ignored his question and flashed him a playful smile which disguised her true disturbed emotions. "It'll be fun," she said jokingly before heading to the greenhouse. Daphne wasn't sure if she meant it or not. 

  
Inside of the greenhouse Nel tossed her bag to the side and pulled her wand out ready to catch some rats. Afterall, Sprout never said anything about not being to use magic. Hearing a rustling noise, she turned ready to attack only to point at that tall Gryffindor boy Moody had been awful to the other day in class. He let out a yelp before stumbling back and dropping a large pot making it crack and spilling black soil everywhere. 

Longbottom was it? All Elowen knew about him was that he wasn't said to be very bright, he was also terribly clumsy and forgetful. Be it anybody else she would've offered to help but she couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Sorry," She apologized sincerely when she realized he was looking up at her with what she couldn't interpret to be fear or disdain. She pointed her wand at him, and he flinched bracing himself for the attack but instead the pot stuck itself together with _Reparo_ looking brand new and was lowered to a side. Turning to the Gryffindor who was still sitting on the ground she pointed at him _"Scourgify,"_ she charmed ridding his uniform of all dirt and other stains. 

She was expecting a _'Thanks'_ but instead he shot her a dark look before walking past her. She couldn't remember ever doing something personal to him (besides stealing his toad and putting him in a teapot). 

"Are you here for detention too?" She asked a little taken aback at his coldness. 

"No," He spoke after a moment as he lifted up what looked like a heavy sack of soil and walked over to where the pot was before he began to fill it. His tone made it seem as if he wanted the conversation to be over. 

"So, you're here for fun?" She asked slightly wrinkling her nose in surprise. He tossed the sack and turned to glare at her. Easily staggering a head maybe even taller than her. Regardless of his meanness she didn't feel intimidated by him. Let's be real, Longbottom was like a harmless goldfish compared to the pirañas that she lived with.

"Did... Did I do something to you?" She asked uneasily. "I'm sorry about your head, he was left unharmed. I promise." She couldn't help but laugh a little there in the end. 

"You know what _your_ family did," he spat darkly in her direction. "My family?" She looked at him perplexed. "Longbottom, is it?" She said tailing after him as he crossed the greenhouse to reach for a small tree seedling he was transferring to the larger pot. "Er- I'm an orphan," She cleared her throat stating the well-known fact. "As far as I know, I don't have a family." 

"You're a Lestrange aren't you?" He suddenly turned making her almost bump into her. "I live with them," She admitted. "They have guardianship over me, but that is all. No name claims or blood relation," She narrowed her eyes in confusion at his strong distaste. He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes hard, before he pinched the bridge of his nose. He muttered something to himself before letting out what sounded like an exhausting sigh and wiping tears that were beginning to prick his eyes. "I-I'm sorry," He apologized after a moment and shook his head. 

"You're Elowen Saintday," He acknowledged. He had known her since their First Year at Hogwarts and despite being knowing for hexing and playing mean tricks on others, she had never tried to pull a fast one on him before. 

She nodded and still looked at him oddly. Neville had to remind himself she wasn't one of them. She wasn't Bellatrix, or Rodolphus or Rabastan Lestrange. It was hard enough knowing that one of their children was on the school premises. 

"And you are?" She stepped next to him, hands at her sides, wand still on her hand. 

"Nobody," He brooded. 

"Nobody's really nobody," The girl couldn't help but shrug being more than familiar with the ugly feeling of feeling worthless. Longbottom looked at her for a moment and again shook his head before lifting up another large pot and letting out a loud scream when he found a coiled snake hiding behind it. He held on to the pot tightly and cowered behind the Slytherin. For a Gryffindor he didn't seem very brave to Nel. 

_"Ugh, what an ugly snake,"_ Nel winced when she saw the brown snake with a black diamond zigzag pattern and bulging orange red eyes.

 _"Ugh, what an ugly girl,"_ The snake shot back reminding her that the reptile could understand her. It wasn't any common snake, it was an adder, or the only venomous snake native to the British Isles. Judging by the bulge in its stomach it was safe to assume the rat problem had been taken care of.  
  
 _"Wait-"_ She said looking at the snake carefully. _"You,"_ She realized. _"You were in our Defense Against the Dark Arts class,"_ She knelt down to look at it at eye level. Longbottom looked distraught at the sight of the girl so casually conversing with the viper.  
  
 _"You summoned me!"_ The adder stretched its neck and hissed at her upset. 

"What's it doing?" Longbottom piped when he witnessed the aggressive gesture. 

_"Right,"_ She admitted, ignoring the disturbed Gryffindor. She had never tried that spell before and wasn't expecting it to work, she wasn't sure how it even worked. Did it just summon a snake, any snake from any part of the world? 

_"Sorry about that, I wasn't expecting the Professor to throw you out of the tower's window."_ _"You try being tossed out of a window and living to tell the tale. I don't even know where my home is anymore. One moment I'm eating some eggs perfectly content at home the next I'm being tossed at a lunatic's face,"_ it nagged as it slithered to the ground and began calmly slithering away from the two students. 

It was then when a lightbulb went off in Nel's head as she approached the snake and actually picked it up. 

_"Unhand me child!"_ The adder demanded hissing at her, flashing two large threatening fangs. _"Why don't you stay here?"_ She offered. _"You can eat all the vermin you want, it's always warm and nobody really comes in here. Except for Professor Sprout, people in detention and well him,"_ she gestured towards Longbottom. _"I can smell the fear in him,"_ The adder made a noise which sounded like a chuckle while turning to look at Longbottom.

 _"Be nice,"_ Nel whispered still holding the large snake in her hands, it slowly began to coil around her arm seeking the warmth of her body.  
 _"I'll make it up to you?"_ She offered negotiating with the animal. The adder made a biting motion to her arm but stopped when it realized she didn't flinch out of fear. This human, considering she could even communicate with it. She wasn't ordinary.

_"Call me Nathair,"_ The adder introduced before slithering down her body _"Pleasure, Elowen Ssssaintday. I'll be around..."_ With that the adder vanished into many of the growing vines of the greenhouse.

She had almost forgotten that Longbottom was standing there looking perturbed at what he had just witnessed.

"Well, that takes care of the rats," She flashed him a pleased smile while clapping her hands as if dusting them off. "Want to head back to the Great Hall? They are picking the champions for the Triwizard Tournament tonight."

The two decided to head back to the Great Hall and along the way Nel learned that he boy's name was actually Neville and that he was actually good friends Harry, Ron and Hermione. Herbology was his passion too, that's why he usually hid away in the greenhouse and tended to Madame Pomfrey's plants.

Back in the Great Hall the tables were still half empty since it was early for dinner. Nel bid a hurried goodbye to Neville when she spotted Ellar sitting alone at the end of the Ravenclaw table. He appeared to be lost in thought eyes skimming over a small book mindlessly.

Running her fingers through her lose hair and adjusting her headband she fixed her uniform before approaching him.

 _"Salut!"_ She greeted unannounced taking a seat across from him in terrible French. It was best not to ask if she could sit and set herself up for rejection.

"I've been practicing my French see?" She chirped happily. "Soon I'll be trilingual, if you count Parseltongue," she made an attempt at a poor joke.

Ellar cracked a small smile and put his book away. Regardless he didn't say anything. He simply looked at her with a lazy smile he was known for wearing.

"So," She began racking her brain for conversation topics. "Did you place your name in the Chalice?" She asked propping her head on her propped elbow and leaning forward with interest.

His lips contorted and he gave her a look. "Why would I ever do that?" He said arching an eyebrow. "Eternal glory is for fools," He scoffed looking down at the glowing chalice that stood tall on a podium in the middle of the Great Hall. She frowned a little at his reaction.   
She would've put her name in. Maybe not necessarily for eternal glory, but...

"It's strange," To her surprise he shifted the topic of conversation. "Being back here at Hogwarts."

Her ears perked at this. She had never mustered enough courage to ask him about his past at Hogwarts. According to what Malfoy had said he had been expelled and Greengrass had simply said he wasn't good company to keep around.

"What do you mean?" She asked in her best lying voice, fully well knowing he had once been a student here.

"I used to be a student here," He smiled at her charmingly. "Didn't you know that?" He narrowed his eyes in what her guilty conscience interpreted as suspicion.

_She did._

"No," She lied again with a slight smile tucking a strand of lose hair behind her ear. She was using the same voice she would use on Cordelia Wool when asked if she knew who had been responsible for swiping all the sweets from the kitchen, or who had broken the mirrors in the girl's bathroom.

"Do you miss it?"

"Sometimes," He admitted. "I was actually in Slytherin, same as you, same as my whole family. We would've been house mates."

Here it was. The moment she had been waiting for. It was the perfect moment to ask. "Why did you transfer to Beauxbaton?" She asked lightly tilting her head to the side hoping to appear more charming.

Part of her wondered what the real story was. Maybe Malfoy had once again been lying to her, just to throw her off for the sake of his own amusement. Another part of her wanted him to lie, wanted to see what elaborate lie he could cook up to eschew her from the truth but was surprised when he admitted to his errors. "I was expelled actually."

She looked at him a little stunned at the revelation and with a look implored him to elaborate. Ellar again flashed her a coy smile before running a hand through his messy curly hair.

"I used to be the Slytherins Seeker and there was an accident," He shook his head apathetically. "Nothing conclusive, but you know how it is. It's not like our House has... the best reputation. You know?" He clicked his tongue. "They were looking for an scapegoat and well, there I was," he raised up his hands and shrugged innocently.

The story made the Slytherin feel angry. It sounded exactly like something Dumbledore would do. He would most definitely pin whatever had happened on her House just as long as he didn't have to deal with it. As long as his precious Gryffindor remained pristine and untouched. Glaring at the old man from across the GreatHall she shook her head in disapproval.

"What?" Ellar laughed a little at her upset reaction. "Don't be upset, it can't be undone," He reached over and patted one of her fisted hands. She could've melted in the spot. More students suddenly filled the room and the Lestrange boy stood. "See you around, Elowen," he shot a teasing wink in her direction before leaving the blushing girl alone.

Nel was in a dreamy haze. She was so stupefied by the interaction with her crush that she didn't even realize Tracey wasn't at the Slytherin dining table. She didn't hear even hear Pansy Parkinson make a snide comment at her appearance. Barely even had a reaction when the Champions were selected actually snapping out of it shaking her head and clapping when Viktor Krum was selected as the Durmstrang champion. His school cheered loudly and began banging their fists on the Slytherin table.

"Don't tell me you're acting like a First-Year schoolgirl just because that French prick held your hand?"

It was almost like a fly. A most annoying buzzing at her side that she hadn't realized was there until it got too close. How in the world did he even know?

She hadn't realized Malfoy was sitting next to her. Clapping politely, shooting him a side-look she jabbed her elbow in his direction making him wince lightly at the aggressive contact.

"For your information he just _happened_ to be at the wrong place at the wrong time," She rolled her eyes at him explaining Ellar's expulsion from Hogwarts. "Something went wrong and Dumbledore wanted somebody to blame and no surprise he chose the Slytherin," She shook her head slightly still angry at what the Headmaster had done.

"You actually believe that load of bull he just spoon fed you?" Draco chortled.

"The Champion from Beauxbaton... Fleur Delacour," Dumbledore announced. The Beauxbaton students cheered loudly, as did the Ravenclaw table since they were their guests, and a beautiful blonde girl stood up and practically danced her way to the stage.

 _"Why- would he lie – to me?"_ She hissed out lowly, still lightly clapping her hands without much enthusiasm. "Question is, why wouldn't he?"   
She raised her eyebrows awaiting to hear his brilliant reasoning, "He's a slimy git, he doesn't need a reason to tell the truth."

"Or to lie," She shot back with a glare before again turning her attention to the Headmaster. Whatever. Same as always Malfoy just wanted to get under her skin.

Finally, it was time for the Hogwarts champion. Dumbledore caught the last paper to erupt from the chalice. "Cedric Diggory."

 _Pretty Boy Diggory!_ The Great Hall went wild. With students roaring and cheering as the handsome boy proudly took to the stage with the other two champions. Many of the girls in the table were giggling. Of course, leave it to the perfect boy to be selected. If Nel's money was on anyone it would've been on Cedric.

"Excellent! We now have our three champions! But in the end only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions, this Vessel of Victory the Triwizard cup!"

 _'Only one will receive the prize of 1,000 Galleons_.' The girl thought ambitiously, somewhat bitter she didn't have an equal shot at getting the money. It was almost 5,000 British Pounds!

People were cheeringly wildly thrusting their fists up in the air animatedly when the Goblet suddenly turned a bright shade of red and without a warning another name was spat out. Dumbledore took it an read it.

"Harry Potter. Harry Potter?"

* * *

"Say," later at night. Nel realized that Tracey was gone and wondered to herself out loud. "Did anybody see where Tracey went?" She asked the other Slytherin girls in the dormitory. Most of them already being in their pajamas.

Millicent shrugged while petting her cat. Pansy didn't even bother in answering. "Last time I saw her was at the Quidditch pitch," Daphne spoke turning over her shoulder from her vanity as she applied some night creams on her face in order to prevent wrinkles. Get real. They still weren't even pass their acne phase.

"I'm going to look for her," Nel said slipping on her black school shoes and pulling her emerald robe over her shoulders. Nobody had even realized that Tracey was gone. Specially after the commotion of Harry Potter having been chosen as the Triwizard tournament's fourth champion.

"What?" Pansy finally called looking up from a _TeenWitch!_ magazine she had been reading which featured somebody named Sabrina.   
"I won't let you!" She said sitting up. "Every year you cost us the House Cup!"

Without turning back flickering her wand over her shoulder Nel casted a Horn tongue hex at her. Judging from Pansy's muffled voice, she smirked to herself satisfied it had worked as she exited the room.

Walking around the corridors holding a Lumos charm. Nel wondered for quite some time but found no sign or trace of her best friend.   
Which was... odd. Tracey wasn't the type to vanish like that and certainly not alone and without warning. She gave up after some time and reasoned she had probably already returned to the Slytherin Common Room or something amongst those lines. Maybe she had been stuck polishing her broom all afternoon and lost track of time? Or maybe she was actually in the library studying for midterms? Who knew?

Nel was presently rounding around the Grand Staircase crossing to the West Lower Floor, slightly distracted by all the floating Jack-O-Lanters and strings that decorated the ceilings and pumpkins on the floor that she had a late reaction to a nasty scene in the corridor.

Three Gryffindor Seventh Years were picking on two First-Year Hufflepuffs. It hardly seemed fair. The Three Gryffindors were levitating them upside down and tossing and lowering them up in the air violently in nauseating spins. It would be a miracle if they didn't throw up.

"Oi!" Elowen had to intervene. "Hardly seems fair, doesn't it?" She asked stepping towards the scene with her hands buried in her pockets. Regardless of her presence they didn't stop.

"If it isn't Lonelily Nell," One shot a sneer into her direction. "Come on, Snell, we're just having a good time," another laughed as the bullying continued.

She looked at the young Hufflepuffs which were red-faced and crying uncontrollably with a bored expression on her features.   
"Doesn't look like it," She sucked the inside of her cheek.

"Let them go," She ordered the Gryffindors in a flat tone.

"Yeah? Or what?" The third Gryffindor said also turning to acknowledge her allowing the Hufflepuffs to slap on the stone ground harshly.

"It won't be pleasant," She warned. "It's all so unnecessary isn't it?" She sighed exhausted by the bullying culture at Hogwarts.

One turned to her and blasted a hex in her direction. She deflected it expertly and shot back with _"Alarte Ascendare!"_

She casted and the three were levitated in the direction of her wand up against the ceiling roughly, the impact so hard a cloud of dust coated their bodies before slamming down to the ground. Back up again, and then down, slamming both into the ceiling and ground, almost like some twisted yoyo.

The Hufflepuffs watched in awe. Without much care she tossed them to the side where they rolled in the ground before crashing into one of the corridor's walls.

Another weakly raised a hand ready to defend himself when she beat him to it.

 _"Expulso!"_ She carefully casted a fireball in their direction which made them scatter for their lives and up in the direction of the Grand Staircase. _"Glisseo,"_ She casted with a vile smile as the stairs suddenly turned into a polished ramp and the three fell on their faces pitifully sliding down as she casted more fireballs in their direction. It took them a painful while to scamper away while shooting verbal curses and ill insults in her direction.

She laughed triumphantly before turning to look at the First Years with a scary smile. They looked at her terrified with large swollen eyes as she approached them.

Stretching out her hand she waved her fingers requesting a payment for services. After all, this type of elaborate hexing did not come for free. One stuck a hand inside of his pocket and pulled out a butterbeer lollipop and a dust bunny. Not her favorite but it would do. (Especially considering she was banned from the Three Broomsticks.) She stuck it in her mouth and savored it.

"My services don't come cheap kids. I'll be in the library if you need me. Next time don't forget your money," she said with ease as the two eleven-year olds scurried away fearfully and a little grateful.

Pleased with her work, satisfied with her payment she was about to return to the dormitory when a voice made her stop cold in her tracks.

"I'd heard you were good at charms, but I can see that was an understatement," Jumbled up by the unfamiliar voice she turned in shock to see Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff Prefect and now Hogwarts Champion standing by the exit that lead to the Courtyard.

 _Shit._ She bit down on the round lollipop making a loud cracking sound.

"You're Elowen Saintday, aren't you?" He approached her cooly, his walk tall and confident as he did without reeking of arrogance. Nel could've choked on her candy. "I think we've met before, but people call you- what is it... Nel?" He guessed correctly.

"My friends call me Nel," She eyed him oddly waiting for him to take away points from Slytherin House or send her straight to Snape for some well-deserved detention. "Aren't you going to take away points?"   
How long had he been standing there for? How much had he witnessed?

"Nah," He said shaking his head with an easy smile. "I don't like bullies either. Besides, how could I? You were defending my house."

She eyed him suspiciously.

Why... on Earth...

Was Cedric Diggory...

Talking to her?

Out of all people...

She felt younger, more naïve, actually dumb, maybe even insecure standing next to such an accomplished student. It was rumored that Diggory was truly a golden child, top of his class, gifted Quidditch player, he was incredibly nice, and of course dashingly handsome.

"Is it true you do _favors_ for people?" He asked smiling at her. That smile that he knew would make anyone do anything for him.

"You know it's true," She says and began to walk away from him. He followed. Afterall the Hufflepuff Common Room is in the same direction as the Slytherin one. She didn't even congratulate him for being selected a Champion for the tournament.

"Think you could do a favor for me?" He asks making her stop in her tracks.

"My favors don't come cheap Diggory."

"I might need your help," he stopped walking as the two descended into the dungeons. "I know you know things. That you're well connected with the castle and well everything that happens in it. I need you to help me figure out what the Three Task of the Triwizard tournament will be," He admitted.

What in the world? A mischievous smirk stretched across her lips.

"Isn't that cheating?" She tapped her chin more in mocking than actual thought.

"It isn't as long as a teacher doesn't help us," he explained.

"Alright," She nodded agreeing to his initial terms. However, she had to set her conditions. "If I help you figure the tasks and you win... Then you'll give me fifty percent of the prize award."

"What?" He laughed at her incredulous suggestion.

"What? A girl has got to eat," She frowned slightly at him. There's no such thing as a free meal. He had to remember he was dealing with a Slytherin, not with somebody more kindhearted from his own House.

"Five percent," He negotiated.

"No way." Shaking her head, she began to walk away, "Thirty?"

"Ten."

"Twenty-five. Take it or leave it." Was her final offer.

Cedric was quiet for a moment, crunching some numbers in his head. "Fine, you've got yourself a deal," he agreed, and they shook on it.

"This stays between us. Understood?" She warned while shaking his head.

"I'm going to be Ministry of Magic one day. This has to stay between us," He said shooting a sly wink in her direction.

"I'll ask around, see what I can find out," Nel said ominously before turning away without bidding the Hufflepuff goodbye.

Just like that she had made 250 extra galleons this year; All she had to do to get them was poke around and see what she could find out anything and everything that she could about the Triwizard Tournament. How hard could that be?

Turning around to enter the Common Room she ran into Tracey who was sneaking back to the dormitories.

"Trace!" She called her name. Stunned the girl paralyzed having been caught on sight. "There you are," She grabbed her hand. "I was worried sick," She said as they entered the Common Room.

"Did you stay up counting all the whisks in your broom again?" Elowen asked shaking her head slightly with a worried expression.

"Um.. Yeah," Tracey lied avoiding her friend's gaze.


	21. Chapter 21

"Cedric rules!" A Hufflepuff stepped in Harry's way. Wearing a bright yellow badged that spined into a green background with Harry's face which read 'POTTER STINKS' on it.

"You stink Potter!" Another young boy insulted as he ran past him.

Harry kept his eyes on him keeping his head lowered when he suddenly saw the boy trip and eat shit as he scrapped his hands. Harry looked up to see an irritated Slytherin girl on her way to the Courtyard. He halted on his walk when he almost ran into somebody.

“Like the badge?” Hannah Abbot, a blonde Hufflepuff, blocked the way.   
Harry was about to excuse himself and walk around her when a hand moved him to the side.

Hannah Abbot looked startled at Elowen Saintday came into view and shot a deathly look her way. "Lose something?" She spat at the surprised girl before forcefully pushing her to the ground and out of her way. Instead of fighting back the Hufflepuff shrunk away, she knew when to pick her battles.

“Harry,” Nel greeted with a mischievous smile turning to face her friend. “Thanks,” He flashed her a grateful smile. It was nice to have at least one friend having your back. Especially when your best friend turned your back on you…   
  


Nel could’ve said the same. Existence at Hogwarts had been a little lonelier recently. Theodore was always off with Daphne helping her paint or something amongst those lines and Tracey was often if not always absent. She event seemed distraught in class, often lost in daydreams. Elowen didn’t want to admit it to herself but she had caught her in a lie more than once at this point.

“What are you up to?” She asked him curiously. “I’m just on my way to have a word with Cedric,” He said shrugging his bookbag strap over his shoulder. She nodded and from the corner of her eye saw Cedric surrounded by the Hufflepuff boys that seemed to worship him.

“Have you,” She began hesitating whether she should ask or not. “Have you heard from him? From Black I mean?” She asked concerned that he hadn’t written back to her yet.

“I heard,” Harry began choosing his words carefully. She paid careful attention to them, listening carefully. “That he can’t communicate through a letter. Because the Ministry is intercepting more and more letters every day, so it’s quite dangerous for him,” he said in an apologetic tone.

She sighed her shoulders slumping slightly feeling disappointed.

“Thanks Harry,” She thanked him before deciding to do something bold. “Also,” She stopped him before he walked in Cedric’s direction. “I don’t know if you know this already, but the first task of the tournament. It’s dragons.”

Yes, maybe Harry was her friend, but this was busines, not personal. She only told him because she knew there wasn’t any way he was going to beat Cedric in the tournament. At the end of the day all that matter was that everyone was safe and that she got paid for her work.

Harry blinked twice surprised that she knew.

“How do you know?” He asked surprised.

Now, how did she know…

Gathering this information hadn’t been easy. After pestering and budging many students at the library while she worked on their parchments, homework and other notes. Some gave her some crumbs of information of any happenings that were going on in the castle.   
Particularly one girl, a Fifth Year Ravenclaw who was gushing about the fact that Charlie Weasley had been spotted on the castle grounds. She was spouting about how handsome he was and how if he had wanted to, he could’ve played Quidditch at a pro level maybe even becoming better than Viktor Krum.   
  


Nel followed her lead and asked Fred and George about their brother Charlie and if he played Quidditch better than Krum. To which her surprise they said that he probably would’ve. They insisted that Charlie could’ve been better than Krum if he didn’t commit to the life of a Dragonologist and move all the way to Romania. They sounded biased, not that she blamed them. After all, it was their brother.

After that she reached the conclusion that if Charlie Weasley a Dragonologist was on schoolgrounds odds were the first tasks involved the taming or fighting of a dragon.

“Yeah, Hagrid showed me.”

Hagrid! She hadn’t thought about him. He was a great resource to keep around.

Nel was leaning under the shade of the tree waiting for Harry to be done talking to Cedric so that they could continue their conversation. Cedric of course already knew everything about the first task of the tournament. Nel and him exchanged a look from the distance. Not that anybody knew the two were friends, let alone even acquainted.

Lost in thought an unexpected flash of black started her. She flinched at the sudden movement and saw Malfoy jump down from one of the tree branches from her peripheral vision. What the hell was he even doing up there?

“Funny, weather forecast didn’t mention it was going to be raining idiots today,” she commented snidely crossing her arms over her chest and keeping her fixed gaze on the Triwizard champions. 

He didn’t laugh at her joke, instead stepped forward blocking her view. “You’re not wearing the badge I made you,” He said pulling out one of those nasty badges everyone was wearing. All of those ‘POTTER STINKS’ badges, who do you think was behind them?

She looked at him and at the badge he was holding on his stretched-out hand. Her eyes bounced back from the badge that switched from Cedric’s face to Harry’s and back up to his malicious smirk before taking it in her hand. She hated to admit it, but they were even a better quality than Hermione’s S.P.E.W. badges. Nel brought it up to her face for closer inspection and eyed it intently before tossing it over her shoulder without any care whatsoever.

He looked at her incredulously.

“You need to get a hobby,” She answered in a dead-beat tone getting ready to walk away from him.

“I do have a hobby,” He claimed rounding around her once again blocking her path. “It’s not my fault Quidditch season was canceled this year because of the stupid tournament.”

“Find a new one then,” She groused growing more and more irritated by his presence. She moved to one side trying to dodge him and he side stepped blocking her way. Left, right, left, left again. Damn. He was more agile than he looked. She glared frustrated he wouldn’t move out of her way.

“One that doesn’t involve pestering me!” She raised her voice at him.

Without an alternative she tried to push him over just like she had done to Hannah Abbot just a couple of minutes earlier but instead he caught both of her hands in his. Elowen pulled back but he refused to let go. Draco was laughing as she struggled against his snare grip. He seemed highly entertained, which further infuriated the Slytherin girl.

“Rehearsing for the Yule Ball Saintday?” She heard Blaise Zabini call from behind as he approached them. Following were Crabbe, Goyle and other Slytherin boys. She felt her ears turning red from both the anger and the embarrassment.

“Why won’t you wear the badge?” Malfoy pressed.  
  
“Because they’re foul and childish, just like you,” She shot back harshly making the Slytherin boys around them all call out loud _‘oooooohs’_ at the offense.

“Leave her alone Malfoy!”

All eyes turned to see Harry Potter approaching the group of Slytherins. Ron stood a couple of feet behind him so did Seamus Finnegan witnessing the scene.

“This doesn’t concern you Scarhead,” Draco snapped back with malice turning his attention to glare at Potter. Nel took this opportunity to push hard enough away from him and liberate her hands, lightly staggering back as she did from the force she had exerted.   
  


“Shouldn’t you be preparing for the tournament?” Malfoy began swaggering in Harry’s direction. “You see Potter, my father and I have a bet. I don't think you're gonna last ten minutes in this tournament. He disagrees. He thinks you won't last five.”

The Slytherins around all laughed.

“I don’t give a damn what you or your father thinks Malfoy,” Harry stepped up and shoved the blond back angrily. This time Malfoy didn’t make any attempt to catch Harry’s hands. “He’s vile and cruel, and you’re just pathetic,” he glowered. His green eyes turning to his friend who in turn bumped into Malfoy’s shoulder as she walked past him and joined Harry’s side. She shot him a glare before following after Harry.

Already embarrassed and furious by their indifference, even angrier after seeing the Slytherin walk away with the Gryffindor. Draco did a cowardly move; he raised a wand at Potter’s back ready to curse the Gryffindor’s knees on backwards.

Nobody expected Professor Moody to appear and without a warning turning Malfoy into a ferret.

“That’ll teach you to cast when someone’s back is turned!” Professor Moody rushed to the scene. The Hufflepuffs in the courtyard followed suit when they heard the commotion. Harry and Nel looked at the white ferret in awe.

McGonagall, who was also in the premises, rushed to see what all the cacophony was about. “Professor Moody what are you doing?” She asked alarmed as she eyed the white animal being cruelly levitated in the air.

“Teaching,” was all Mad Eye responded.

The professor lifted the ferret and spun it in the air several times in dizzying loops before stretching out Crabbe’s pants and ramming it in. The ferret let out a squeak before being stuffed into the horror that was the inside of Crabbe’s pants. The Slytherin boy squirmed uncomfortably trying to shake his furry friend off. By now everybody in the courtyard was doubled in laughter laughing at the scene until the ferret slid out down and out of Crabbe’s leg which was when Professor McGonagall turned it back into a human.

“My father will hear about this!” Were the first words from his mouth. He threatened with spite before rushing up to his feet. “Is that a threat?!” Moody snapped stepping forward waving his wand in a menacing matter.

“Alastor!” McGonagall snapped halting the professor from hexing the student. Draco was ready to run away from the mad man.

“We _never_ use transfiguration as punishment. Surely, Dumbledore told you that?” She warned with a look that said she was not meant to be crossed. Then again, overall, Minerva McGonagall was not a woman to be crossed.

“He might’ve mentioned it,” Professor Moody said innocently bringing his wand to his lips.

Harry and Nel were still laughing despite the severity of the situation.

“Ms. Saintday, you look like you’re enjoying yourselves,” McGonagall’s eyes dated towards the laughing duo focusing on the Slytherin. Of course, the Head of Gryffindor would never call on her on House. How typical. Regardless both instantly stopped their giggling.

“Won’t you escort Mr. Malfoy to Madame Pomfrey’s.”

It wasn’t a request.

Draco protested half the short way that the two had to walk to the Hospital Wing.

“Why do I even have to go to Madame Pomfrey’s?” He complained as the two walked in the direction of the Hospital Room.

_‘I don’t know- maybe because the last time you got a scratch on you, you wore a cast for a month?’_ She wanted to roll her eyes at his question.

“Psychological damages?” She guessed with a small laugh. “I mean after being in Crabbe’s pants,” She shivered not even wanting to think of what the boy kept inside of those pants. She wouldn’t be surprised if there was an old ham sandwich lost somewhere in there.   
  


He scowled at her.

It was bad enough that he had just been publicly humiliated in front of half of the school. First told of by Kennel Nel, the orphan mutt and ill-tempered bitch of Slytherin House, then aggressively shoved by Potter, and finally turned into a filthy mustelid by _a professor_. It was downright degrading.

“Serves you right for being such an unbearable prick,” She said sounding more than pleased as they continued on their way. (She wasn’t wrong he had it coming).

  
 _‘T_ _hey’re foul and childish, just like you.’_ Did she really think that low of him? Why did it even matter whatever esteem or regard she held him in?  
What about Potter? He cheats his way into a sacred tournament, and she doesn’t bat an eyelash over it?   
  
Why was it always bloody Saint Potter? Who makes the Quidditch Team during their First Year? Harry bloody Potter.   
Who becomes the Youngest Seeker in the Century? Scarhead Potter.   
Who wins the first match Quidditch match of the year when his own father, Lucius Malfoy, is watching the match with a judging eye? Potter.

Who gets to ride that oaf, Hagrid’s, bloody chicken? Saint Potter.

Who gets to share Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans with Saintday on Sundays? Potter.

_Potter. Potter. Potter._

That wanker was and would always be there to take everything and anything away from him.

_The Chosen One_. The Saint. Dumbledore’s _favorite._

_He_ should’ve been the one making the Quidditch Team during their first year. _Malfoy_ not Potter. _He_ should’ve been the Youngest Seeker in the Century. _He_ should’ve won 1992’s first game of the season. He had a demanding father to impress, _Potter didn’t._ _He_ should’ve been the one riding the Hippogriff off into the sunset. The one with friends.   
Saintday didn’t seem to like anyone and _even she liked him._

And then this year. Of course, Potter couldn’t bear not being the center of attention for a bloody damn minute and just _had_ to make the tournament about himself. His arrogance as always was astonishing. Worst part was that he probably knew he was going to get away with it.

Nel looked at him oddly when she didn’t hear a snarky response which was typical of him. Draco seemed lost in thought a cross look on his pale features. He noticed she was eyeing him curiously. It’s not like he would ever tell her, or that she would ever understand. 

“What’s so damn great about him anyways?” He snapped his eyebrows knotted in an angry scowl.

The girl was a little startled by the shift in his mood, even taken aback by his harsh tone, she had never heard him speak like that.

“Who? Harry?” She asked with genuine confusion at his question.

“Why do you always take his side?” He accused absolutely livid. The humiliation of the day, embarrassment, anger and jealousy all biting into him at once.

He didn’t give her a chance to answer.

“You _always_ take his side! You’d pick him over _your own_ house mate. Alright – yeah, maybe the pins were childish – I’ll admit that much, but he _cheated_ his way into the damn tournament Nel. He couldn’t bear not being the center of attention for a bloody damn minute and he _had_ to make it about himself,” She looked at him with astonishment. “Worst part is that, since he’s Dumbledore’s favorite he knew he was going to get away with it. You think I’d get away with that? You think you’d get off the hook after pulling a stunt like that?” He spitefully scoffed at the thought.

Her mouth was open in surprise at his outburst.

“You know it’s true. He does this every damn year!”

Again silence. He didn’t know if she remained quiet because she was at loss of words or if from the shock of his angry words.

It looked like he was done with his explosion. “And worst part is, you defend him!” He hurled at her one last time before growing quiet.

One or two students passing by looked at them awkwardly before skulking away nervously making the silence between the two feel louder.   
Malfoy, well, he wasn’t completely wrong. Elowen really believed Harry when he said he had no clue how his name had gotten into the Goblet of Fire. Let’s be real, he wasn’t that talented of a wizard. Hermione she would’ve believed, but Harry?

Draco caught his breath as his temper faded and pulse slowed. He anxiously danced on his feet before walking away from her and his embarrassment. Fuck visiting Madame Pomfrey and fuck everything.   
He was absolutely mortified.

“Oi,” She called after him. He stopped in his way but didn’t turn her way. “Want to see something cool?” Her voice was cool and collected.

He didn’t budge, but also didn’t leave the corridor.

“It’s a secret…” She dangled carefully knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist the curiosity.

He pivoted slowly; she had his attention.

* * *

“Why on Salazar’s good name would you bring me here?” The boy complained as he inspected the plants in the greenhouse carefully. He wouldn’t put it past him for Nel to feed him to fanged geranium or a massive Venus fly trap.

“To look at plants?” He guessed in a bored tone as he leaned forward to take a whiff of a plant with pink flowers that snarled at him. Maybe his first guess wasn’t too far off…

“Patience…” She said squatting looking under vines, behind pots and in between the branches of several plants. “Where is he…”

“Where is _who?”_

Draco felt a sudden weight on his foot and looked down to see a large brown snake slithering over his feet. “Merlin!” He yelped in surprise and stepped back as the snake hissed at him.

“Don’t hurt him!” The girl knelt down and picked up the large adder which wrapped its tail around her lower arm. Malfoy watched in awe as she tamed the serpent and the serpent in return answered to its master.   
_“Watch it blondie!”_ The adder hissed again in his direction which made her laugh.

Draco watched in morbid fascination as she conversed with the snake. The thing was downright ugly. Big, fat, with bulding red orange eyes and a black diamond pattern on its back.

“You brought me here to see that ugly thing?”

_“Oi, you’re no Prince Charming yourself,”_ the snake bit back, making her laugh even louder.

Draco’s eyes narrowed as he glared at the reptile. Was the snake… roasting him?

“What did it say?” He demanded to know.

_“Tell him,”_ Nathair said to her.

“He doesn’t like you,” She explained as the adder climbed up higher in her arm and nestled around her neck where it curled under her uniform greedily seeking the warmth of her body.

“You brought me here to look at a snake?” He asked again in surprise.

She shrugged casually as she stroked the snake’s head with her index finger. Animals didn’t usually tend to like her for one reason or another, but this one was alright. “I thought it would be cool.”

“Want to hold him?”

Draco was officially horrified.

_“I’ll bite him,”_ Nathair chuckled slyly as Elowen walked towards the blonde boy. _“Now, not unless I ask you to,”_ She whispered to the adder even if the other Slytherin in the room wouldn’t be able to understand her Parseltongue either way.

For somebody whose entire family had been in Slytherin, who wore a ring with a damn snake engraved, Malfoy was pretty chicken about touching Nathair. “Maybe, some other time,” He answered in a calm voice while looking at the adder dreadfully. She couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his comical expression before setting the adder down on top of some creeping vines.

“Harry is my friend,” She shifted to the sensitive topic. Nel attempted to pick her words carefully as to not trigger him. It sincerely didn’t matter to her if he had cheated his way into the tournament or not.   
The two were friends. Harry was lonely and so was she. To her it was only normal for the two to stick up for the other. “We understand each other in a different way. He’s also an orphan so… he understands,” She avoided his prying gaze while tapping her palms awkwardly on a wooden table.

“I understand you.”

Whatever she had been expecting him to say had _not_ been that. She turned and her dark eyes met his silver ones. There was no mocking or sneering. He was being sincere.   
She didn’t want to think about those rare moments the two shared. Christmas Day 1992, the night at the Astronomy Tower, playing the violin at Hogsmeade. There were things he knew about her, ugly wounds she had never allowed anyone else to see.

She looked away briskly feeling her face turning what was probably an unflattering shade of burning red.

At the same time – who did he think he was? She didn’t think he understood her or maybe he did. Maybe he only understood the unstable two-dimensional version of her he had crafted in his head.  
  
“I don’t expect you to be able to empathize,” She added more crassly again changing the topic.

“Come,” He said making his way out of the greenhouse. “There’s something I’d like to show you,” He said stretching out his hand towards her. She pretended not to see it and instead walked on his side.

* * *

“It’s hidden here somewhere,” Draco said as he opened the door to a dusty storage room in the third floor. The room was covered with cobwebs and old desks, chairs and old books were randomly stacked, clouds of dust went up as the two stepped in. He himself coughing at the dust. Nel waived them out of her wave with a lazy hand.

“What is?”

“It’s a mirror,” he answered. “Some Sixth-Years said that if you looked into it you could see a naked girl- _Ow!”_ He winced at the sudden slap to his arm.

Just what had Draco Malfoy brought her here to do?

“Merlin, Saintday,” he rubbed his arm painfully. “I wasn’t finish,” He shot her an annoyed look, yet couldn’t help but laugh lightly at her reddened expression. “Which was a lie.”

She couldn’t tell if he sounded disappointed by this or not. “Here, it is,” He said suddenly stopping in front of a large mirror. Half of the mirror’s golden trim was covered by a torn sheet. There was a line cracked down one of its edges and overall it looked ancient. There was a large dust coated desk in front of it covering the lower half of the reflection.

The two Slytherins stood in front of it, their reflections starring back at them; confused brown eyes and cool grey ones.

“It’s called the Mirror of Erised. Rumor is that it shows the person standing before it anything and everything they desire.”

Nel stood before it deep in thought not seeing anything beyond her confused expression and Malfoy standing next to her.

“Alright then, move,” He instructed nudging his head to the side asking her to move away from the reflection.

She did as he instructed and stepped back, yet she still appeared in the mirror’s reflection. “Move further back, you’re still in the reflection.”

“Is here fine?” She called standing at a good distance away from both him and the mirror. He couldn’t help but feel his ears burning when he realized the two of them were standing next to each other in the mirror’s reflection.

The girl standing in the room looked at him oddly. He could be so weird sometimes… 

He cleared his throat and straighten out his uniform shaking his head praying she didn’t realize what he had just seen.

The reflection changed and Draco saw all of the things he wanted in life.  
He had friends, genuine friends that cared about him, Potter was amongst them. They sincerely thought he was funny and played Quidditch him. Crabbe and Goyle, yeah, maybe they were his most loyal friends at Hogwarts, but he always felt their loyalty for him rooted in the fact that both of his parents worked for his dad. He saw his parents both of them filled with pride when they looked at him, specially his dad, gripping his shoulder tightly wearing a rare smile on his features.

“Why did you bring me here?” She spoke hoping to break him out of his trance. Whatever he was looking at… Whatever it was that Draco Malfoy desired, it seemed to deeply pain him.

He wiped a hand down his mouth hiding his frown before mumbling for her to step forward. Stepping in front center in the mirror she stood alone and saw no illusion unfold.

“I don’t think it’s working,” She said after a dense moment. “Wait- I think I see something.”

Elowen didn’t know what she had been expecting to see reflected in the mirror, maybe a private safe at Gringotts with a mountain of galleons or maybe complete independence and freedom from her horrible guardians, but instead she saw an older couple standing behind her. She didn’t know who they were, but she knew who she wanted it them be her parents.   
Both wearing modest muggle clothes. Both happy to see her. Both apologized for everything that had happened. Her reflection in the mirror was beaming, the cruel contrast of reality stark as a frown kept her lips turned down. Her eyes began to water.

She wanted to reach for them and touch them.

“It’s not real,” He warned.

All she wanted was a loving family.

“I see my family,” She admitted with an exhausting sigh. “At least, who I wish would be my family. My mother kind of looks like yours, my dad, strangely like Mr. Weasley, but both with dark hair,” She laughed weakly.

She hadn’t thought about her parentage in a while. At least not since meeting Sirius Black.

Distraught by her current emotions the scene shifted to show a girl standing before her. It was somebody she hadn’t seen in years and hadn’t thought of in a very long time: Lucy.

Lucy looked like Nel had always remembered. With thick, long wavy hair, large eyes and full lips. She was happy in this reflection, smiling, like Nel always remembered her. However, Lucy, well… now she was only a memory that had long ago been buried. Her name and disappearance had simply become another mystery for her to add to her list of enigmas to be questioned and perhaps one day solved.

“Why did you bring me here?” She asked with a painful expression that was similar to the one he wore when he was looking at his own reflection in the mirror.

“I want…” He kept his hung, shifting one of his feet awkwardly as he stood some steps away from her before dipping his hands in his pockets.

“I want to be friends with you.”

Had she heard him, right?

Malfoy seemed like the type of person to collect people. To keep people around him that would freely bend at his will and disposal. Expirable friendships like the one he had with Crabbe and Goyle.   
What purpose would Nel Saintday serve for him? Somebody to hex people for him? He already had goons to do that for him.

On the other hand, Elowen wasn’t the type of person who kept many friends around. _Hell_ \- most people would turn the other way if they saw her walking down the corridor, and presently with Tracey being absent doing… who knows what… and with Theodore spending all if not most of his time with Daphne, well the girl had been lonely.

She let out a laugh that sounded more uneasy than humorous. “And why would I want to be friends with a twitchy little ferret like you?”

He couldn’t be serious.

This was the boy that had tormented her for the majority of her time at Hogwarts. The foul git had just been bullying her and her friend in the courtyard just a couple of moments earlier. But then again, here they stood sharing their deepest, darkest desires to each other. Things that even Tracey and Theo didn’t know.  
  
When they had first met, he had both insulted and mocked her for being muggle born and an orphan.

Draco starred at her intently. He was dead serious. Maybe it was too late for him to mend a friendship with Potter, but maybe not with her.

Friends with Malfoy? It left a foul taste in her mouth.

How would that even function?   
What would they even say to each other?   
_‘Hello? How are you?’_

Act like normal humans?

The thought of it was baffling.

But he was lonely.

She was lonely.

They were both alone and in truth, besides prideful vendettas, what was there to lose?

He wasn’t laughing, he wasn’t sneering, he was sober. He looked at her with woeful eyes standing very still holding his breath.

The two did have those rare moments they shared together.   
Maybe, things wouldn’t be too bad if they attempted to be civil to each other. Maybe the two would feel less lonely? Maybe it could even be nice?

Stepping towards him she stretched out an olive branch.

She took in a deep breath, hoping, praying she wouldn’t regret her words. Looking at him in the eye holding the promise that she would destroy him if he went back on his word.

“Friends?” She offered with a small, yet genuine smile.

* * *

_AN: Bet. Draco is going to majorly fuck this up somehow.  
Also it is almost the Yule Ball (excitement!) _

**_Question:_ ** _What do you think Draco’s Patronus should be?_


	22. Chapter 22

It had downright been a foul week.

The First Task of the Triwizard tournament had already occurred.

Thankfully nobody had been injured too badly. Harry had received a scratch from the dragon and had come in first tied with Krum for first place. Fleur had come in last and Cedric, after having some points deducted from having part of his face burnt off by the dragon, came in third. This incident had landed him in the Hospital Room where he was constantly surrounded by hordes of adoring fans, friends and students that were concerned for him.

It was early on a Saturday when Nel decided to pay her friend a visit. Thankfully it seemed like the Hospital Room was vacant with the exception of Madame Pomfrey.

She approached Cedric who was sitting on his bed content with half of his beautiful symmetrical face covered by a bandage that would hopefully heal nicely. “So what’s the verdict Scarface?” She asked crudely as she took a seat on the chair next to his hospital bed.

The older boy looked up from a get-better card he had been reading and smiled at his business associate laughing slightly at what he interpreted to be a joke.

“Madame Pomfrey says it’ll heal nicely, won’t even leave a scratch.”

Of course, it wouldn’t.

Leave it to Cedric to keep his stupidly beautiful face intact after almost having it burnt off. Hell, who knows he could be the only one able to be able to pull off a half-burnt face and look just as handsome.

“You cost me ten galleons,” She sighed crossing her arms over her chest upset.

“You bet on me?” Cedric laughed a little incredulously. “Like a racehorse?”

She didn’t want to think about the stupid bet Malfoy had talked her into.

_“Ladies choice,” Draco had said with the mocking tone of a gentleman as they sat in the stands ready to witness the four champions taken on the first task._

_Without giving it much thought Nel bet on Cedric. She needed him to win if she wanted to get paid. Also, why would she doubt his abilities?_

_“You’re not betting on Scarhead?” Malfoy scoffed. “What? No faith in your friend?” He spat out the word friend almost as if it was toxic._

_“I’m not going to bet on Harry exactly because he’s my friend!” She huffed irritated. (It wasn’t a complete lie.)_

_If only Cedric hadn’t slipped towards the end. She should’ve bet on Harry who at least tied with Krum. Then maybe she would’ve been ten galleons richer instead of having to painfully cough them up. At the rate these bets were going she would lose all her money to a brat that didn’t even need it._

_“Pleasure doing business with you,” Draco said ostentatiously taking the golden coins from her. It really wasn’t fair._

_Come on! He didn’t even need it!_

_“Don’t talk to me,” She grumbled before leaving and going to check on Cedric at the Hospital Room._

“I’m running a business Diggory,” She said cooly.

Cedric eyed her oddly. She could be so strange sometimes.

“I thought that was you the other day, standing by the door, _hiding_ ,” He teased sitting up taller. She avoided his hazel eyes. Nel would’ve never admit it to her business partner but naturally she was concerned for him. I mean who wouldn’t? The golden boy had almost been turned into a roast marshmallow.

“I’ve got a clue for you,” She informed. “About the second task.”

He looked at her attentively. The Second Task of the tournament wouldn’t be until late February and they were barely at the end of November. How had she figured it out so quickly?

“I think it has to do with the Great Lake,” she said scratching her chin seeming deep in thought. Or at least that’s what Nathair had mentioned to her. The adder had said that when creeping around the castle grounds he had seen some men in suits, probably from the Ministry of Magic as well as Dumbledore, Hagrid and others walking around the Black Lake’s perimeter. “Some of the Ministry members were seen walking around it.”

“What? You think they’re going to make us wrestle the Giant Squid now?” His eyes widened slightly at the horrible thought.

“Not sure,” Her brows knitted together. Honestly, she wouldn’t put it past the Ministry of Magic. Her eyes fixing on a random spot on the window above his hospital bed. “What about your clue?” She turned her attention to the large golden egg besides his bed.

Cedric explained it was just terrible shrieking. Completely undistinguishable noise. He said it didn’t sound like anything he had ever heard before. Both tossed and debated some ideas of what the potential next task could be.

“Whatever it is, I’ll keep doing some research,” she stood up and stuck her hand inside of her book bag. “Here,” She spoke her voice less harsh as she pulled out a card that was lamely hand crafted and a knitted thing that resembled a lemon? Or a ball?

He eyed it curiously as he picked it up and gave it a strong squeeze. “Did you make this?”

“It’s a knit lemon stress ball. It’s enchanted to never explode no matter how hard it is squeezed,” She explained. “Feel better,” She said quietly, ready to run to the opposite side of the room. Embarrassed for showing concern over the Hufflepuff. Specially for Cedric. To him this was probably garbage, his friends and fans had probably gifted him way nicer and more useful presents.

“Thanks, Nel, this is really thoughtful,” He smiled sincerely flashing her the dashing smile that made all the girls around him swoon. She remained silent simply wanting to exit the room as quickly as possible.   
“Where are you going?”

“Snape has summoned all the Slytherins in the Assembly Room. Merlin knows what kind of vile torture he’s got in mind for us,” she half joked.

* * *

Despite having been joking, the Slytherin hadn’t been far off. Snape did have a torturous idea in mind. Ballroom dancing. _With him._

“There you are!” Tracey said to her friend the moment she arrived to the large room where all of Slytherin House was gathered. Snape stood in the center of the room looking beyond irritated. Even Mr. Filch was in the room standing by the sides next to an ancient looking record player, holding his dancing partner Mrs. Norris in his arms. “Where were you?” Tracey asked.

“Oh!” Nel shot her a mean glare. “So, I can’t ask where you’ve been, but you can?” She shot before giving her friend the cold shoulder.

Tracey grew silent and looking burdened with guilt turned away from her friend ignoring the stab she had just taken at her. It was true. Tracey had now been sneaking off been missing from everybody’s radar from weeks and nobody seemed to know where she was, what she was doing or who she was with. It even seemed like Tracey had crossed the point of lying after having been caught in one of her lies more than once.

On the other hand, Daphne seemed much too distraught by the current events.

“Isn’t this exciting?” She said in a dreamy tone as she beamed at her friends and clapped her perfectly manicured hands together.

“What is?” The dark eyed girl uttered in a dark tone as she glared at an older Slytherin that had been starring at her from across the room. It also seemed like the audience had been divided into males one side of the room females in the other.

“The Yule Ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard tournament since its inception. On Christmas Eve night we and our guest gather in the Great Hall for a trivial and rather dull conviviality,” Snape began to explain. His nasal voice echoing off the walls of the large room lulling some younger students to sleep. “As representatives of the host school and _Slytherins_ I expect each and every one of you will represent the House with pride. Foolish behavior will be unacceptable, and I _will not_ tolerate the lot of you acting like a cluster of dunderheads,” He took inhaled a deep breath sounding absolutely drained. “Sadly, the Yule Ball is first and foremost a dance and to save yourselves and Slytherin House the grueling humiliation - we will be reviewing the basics of ballroom… _dancing_ ,” he scowled almost spitting out the word as if it physically hurt him to say it.

Most of the girls in the room chatted excitedly and turned to gush at their friends. One of those being Daphne who probably already knew what she was going to wear, how she was going to do her hair and make-up and probably even who her date would be. Tracey looked terribly uncomfortable through the meeting keeping her gaze lowered to the wooden floor and Nel had a blank look of confusion on her face.   
She had a hard time telling her right from left how was she supposed to bloody learn how to ballroom dance and from _Snape_.

“I am certain the majority of you have had dance lessons before,” He grumbled almost resembling a miserable wet crow. This ball, it almost sounded like he had a personal vendetta against it. _Yikes._

Amongst the excited girls was Pansy who felt the need to make an announcement. “I’ve been taking lessons since I was six,” she bragged proudly while keeping her eyes fixed on the prize. A certain blond across the room. Was she secretly hoping to impress him?

Most of the males groaned dreading having to hunt down dates and get their dancing shoes ready.

“Congratulations Parkinson,” Snape said deprecatingly his tone heavily dripping with sarcasm. “I will now proceed to demonstrate the basic footwork with somebody inexperienced who lacks the proper grace required to perform the art of dancing.”

Nel was too busy snickering at the Professor’s sarcastic comment she didn’t realize he called on her. Pansy shot her a triumphant glare, that’s what she got for laughing.

“What?” She looked around the room nervously. She would’ve been a lot braver if he had asked her to slay a dragon or take down a giant squid. Nel had never danced in her life. Maybe that one time when Wool’s Orphanage held a local fundraiser back in London in which the children had to torturously perform a dance to “Jingle Bell Rock”; Even that had been a catastrophe. She winced slightly at the embarrassing memory of accidentally kicking a boombox directly into someone’s face.

“Professor, as a concerned student-“ She began with persuasion. “I think you should select a more prepared, even a more eloquent partner. Everybody heard what Parkinson said, she’s practically been dancing her whole life-“

He silenced her with a deathly glare that commanded her up to her feet. She let out an exhausting sigh as the loud sniggers were heard around the room as she approached the professor. Embarrassed she rubbed her arm standing next to the Potions Master feeling both extremely awkward and small standing next to him with all eyes fixed on the two of them.

“As I said. If an unskillful, inelegant person like Saintday can be taught to dance, so can anybody in this room.”

_‘Geez, alright, take it easy with the compliments,’_ she thought resenting his comments. Again, the majority of the room laughed. This was humiliating.

“Silence,” Snape snapped his loud voice echoing the newly found silence in the room. “The House of Salazar Slytherin has commanded the respect of the Wizard World for nearly a millennium and I will not have you sullying that name in the course of a single evening.” He paused before stretching out a pale hand. “Ms. Saintday,” he bowed his head slightly.

The quiet laughing in the room made her cringe as she took the professor’s hand.

* * *

That had been absolutely mortifying.

“I’m never going to let you live that down!” Theodore laughed loudly as they excited the Assembly Room. The four Slytherins walked together as they exited the room and the Gryffindors went in.

“Even if you deny it I know you’re one of Snape’s favorites. Private lessons with him and now a personal ballroom lesson?” He teased in reference of the private meetings Saintday had with the professor in order to improve the weak control she had over her volatile emotions.

_“I will kill you,”_ She cursed. Laughing, Theo excused himself and said he was going to catch up on some Transfigurations homework.

“My dress should be arriving soon,” They overheard a loud voice bragging as the three girls attempted to walk away from its source. “It’s made out of the only the finest silk. Imported. Cost a fortune. Initially daddy opposed but once mother convinced him I just _had_ to have it – well he caved. Obviously, his little girl has to have the best of the best. Wouldn’t you agree Daphne?”

“I’m excited to see your dress!” Daphne responded unaffectedly. Above all things came art, beauty, design and fashion.

“I might be the best dressed, of course after you,” Pansy added eyeing Daphne with some resentful bitterness. She turned to look at Millicent hoping her best friend would have her back, but instead she seemed distraught, probably also distressed about what she’d wear to the dance or who her date would be.

“I’ll say,” Pansy cleared her throat. “I can’t wait to see what rags you pull out of the rubbish bin Saintday. That is if you even manage to get a date for the ball. With that disgraceful footwork and graceless poise, I doubt it,” She laughed obnoxiously with her friend.

Nel was ready to lunge at her Tracey and Daphne held her back. “Shut up Parkinson nobody cares about you or your stupid dress you irrelevant twit!” She shouted at her. Pansy gasped and began rambling about who was really relevant and who wasn’t. 

“Don’t listen to her Nel,” Daphne said looking over her shoulder as they walked away from the other two Slytherins and descended into the dungeon. “She’s just looking to get a reaction out of you.”

The irritated Slytherin was about to respond went something vibrantly orange phased through her a loud cackling laughter followed. _Oh no._

“Oi there, if it isn’t Slytherin’s Spotted Cod,” He levitated before the three girls with a broad Cheshire grin that meant the poltergeist was – as per usual - up to no good.

“Spotted… Cod?” Tracey repeated the nickname with confusion. Nel gave her a look not to ask.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten Dots,” Peeves leaned in dangerously close looking at her eye to eye. Of course, Nel knew what he was referring to. He was referring to that time he showed her the secret passageway out of the Defense Against the Dark Art’s Office. She had been hoping he had forgotten but of course, Peeves never forgets.

“You know Peeves, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” She said running a hand through her hair nervously.

His ghastly face instantly shifted to a scowl. “We had a deal,” He growled out becoming more agitated.

“I don’t have time for this,” She admitted sincerely. She really didn’t. In between her work, lessons with Snape, helping Cedric with the tasks, finding a dress and somehow convincing Ellar to ask her to be his date for the Yule Ball, Nel really had her hands full. For once she just wanted to have a perfectly ordinary night. She tried to sidestep the ghost, her two friends following behind, but Peeves once again phased through her.

“You owe me!” He shrieked loudly as the poltergeist began throwing a terrible tantrum. The pipes in the ceiling above them burst soaking them. Some of the armor figures in the dungeon all bent in unnatural ways and cold water rained down on them. Daphne spit out a mouthful of water and glared at the poltergeist with great distaste.

“Alright,” Nel ceded to her side of the bargain. “Alright,” She raised her hands in a truce. “You got me. I’ll do as you wish,” she let out a frustrated breath.

_“You know what to do_!” he cackled manically before backflipping out of scene. She rubbed her temples in great frustration at what she would have to do. Daphne and Tracey didn’t seem to question his motives. Both simply stood very still.

“Is this water…” Tracey spoke after a moment. _“Clean?”_ She wondered out loud.

“I don’t want to know,” Daphne pivoted on her heel as she rushed inside of the Common Room sounding almost as if she was going to vomit.   
“Same,” The brunette followed with repulsion. 

* * *

After a rather disgusting Saturday morning Daphne and Nel decided to head to Hogsmeade for the day to go dress shopping. Tracey had excused herself with a blatant lie that neither of the two bothered calling out.  
Daphne already knew what she was wearing to the ball. She actually had a tailor personally make it for her over the summer holiday and she was praying it still fit her. Being a good friend, she offered to go dress shopping with Nel for fun... Nel doubted that Cloelia would bother in sending her an outfit, let alone a fine dress for the ball, but then again who knew maybe if Ellar was her date?

  
“Do you think he’s going to ask you?” Daphne asked in the carriage to Hogsmeade. “I don’t know,” The other girl babbled with excitement.

“I mean- we have been talking a little more and more each time, the other day he held my hand in the Great Hall.”

“Really?” Daphne enthused back with the same enthusiasm 

“Well, kind of- it was more of a pat,” She admitted the reality. “But- never say never, right?” She laughed lightly as they arrived at the Wizard village.   
  


Distraught looking at the snow that was beginning to fall Daphne pulled Nell out of her daydream. “Look!” She hissed in a loud whisper. “There he is!” She discretely pointed at the wizard whom the two had just been talking about. Speak of the Devil…

Ellar was wearing a dark blue coat and appeared to be window shopping for something outside of Zonko’s. He was with some of his Beauxbaton school mates who were all laughing at a particular prank toy.

“Go talk to him!” She urged her friend nudging her forward.

“Are you nuts?” The other shot back looking down at the gray jumper she was wearing and dark jeans. Definitely not as presentable as she wished she’d be.

  
“I can’t talk to him _now_ – He’ll think I’m asking him to the dance!”   
  


“That’s the point!” Daphne struggled as she snaked her arm under her friend’s and dragged her forward the two bickering back and forth until they stood in front of the group of French students.   
“Just smile!” She advised with a sharp hiss through her clenched teeth.

“Bonjour,” Daphne greeted politely in poor French. Although Nel doubted any of them even heard or listened, most were probably distracted by her smile and glowing cheeks.

“H-Hi Ellar,” Nel stammered not even remembering to greet him in the French she had been practicing so hard to impress him.

“Daphne, is it?” Ellar greeted taking her hand in his and leaning in to kiss her face three times on each side like the French did. “Elowen,” He turned his attention to her and did the same.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“We came dress shopping. You know, for the _Yule Ball_ ,” She edged on the topic anxiously. Dancing on the heels of her feet, lightly swaying forward hoping he’d take the initiative to ask her.

“I see,” He acknowledged and wiped the edge of his nose. “I’m sure you’ll look very beautiful,” His lips stretched into a thin smile. “The both of you,” He added also acknowledging Daphne. With that he bid them goodbye before walking into Zonko’s with his friends.

Daphne brought a hand to her temple when she saw her friend literally pressing her face against the window shop’s glass starring at the back of the French boy’s dark wavy-haired head.

  
“Ugh..” She groaned out painfully.  
“Why didn’t he ask me?” She cried out dramatically.

Daphne rolled her eyes and peeled her desperate looking friend off the glass. “Maybe it wasn’t obvious enough.”

“I think it was pretty,” she touched the tip of her nose. “On spot.”

“Just ask him yourself next time you see him,” Daphne advised.

“But I want _him_ to ask _me._ Not the other way around!” Nel cried back childishly. Daphne tried to convince her it wasn’t a big deal if she did the asking. Easy for her to say. Everybody would probably be dying to go to the ball with the prettiest Slytherin.

Again, Daphne shook her head as the two walked into a large pink and teal shop that was named Gladrags Wizardwear _“245 years dressing the Elegant Wizard”_ a sign outside of the shop read.

“What about this one?” Daphne immediately rushed to a beautifully sleek plum colored dress evening gown. Nel almost had a heart attack when looking at the price tag. “How about we look in the discount section?” She coughed awkwardly already feeling her wallet stinging from the unnecessary expense of wearing a dress.

“Nel,” Daphne held onto her hand, stopping her in the spot and giving her a knowing look. “This is a once in a lifetime event. We are never going to live another Yule Ball,” She said melodramatically sounding as if it was a life or death situation. “I know you’re careful with your spending, but don’t you _for once_ want to treat yourself?” She insisted.

Elowen didn’t want to look into her persuasive grey green eyes. She knew that if she did, she would cave. Daphne wasn’t wrong, she had been hoarding her savings like a dragon sitting atop a small fortune. But then again, she had been very careless about it even losing some of it to Malfoy in stupid and unnecessary bets. _Maybe,_ just _maybe_ Daphne was right, and she deserved to allow herself _one_ nice treat.

“Don’t you want to feel like a dream? Have all eyes on you for _one_ magical night?”

It was too tempting. Her greedy eyes looked at the expensive dresses in the shop and she wondered just how easy yet unnecessary it would be to swipe one of them or trade the tag with something in clearance. She didn’t want to be the only girl wearing a uniform at the ball. Specially not if she was planning on attending with Ellar Lestrange. The young man would probably show up looking like a dreamy prince from a faraway land and she would look- well… Like what she really was – _a nobody._

She couldn’t help but think of Pansy’s cruel taunts and her and Millicent’s loud laughter. Insecurity also pricking at her side to buy the damn dress.

“Just imagine,” Daphne continued to press. “You, Ellar, the night… It’ll be like a fairy-tale!”

Daphne painted a very tempting image of what the night would be like. Magical.

She was right. She had to do it. This was completely a necessary expense. She was going to dazzle not just Ellar Lestrange, but everybody that ever looked down at her during this night. Even Parkinson and Bullstrode.

“Let’s do it,” She quickly caved before she changed her mind. “Really?” Daphne’s eyes went wide and she squeezed her friend’s hand tightly as she jumped squealing eager to begin shopping before beginning to ramble about the jewelry, she would lend her and how they were going to do their hair and make-up and shoes- of course you couldn’t forget the shoes.

* * *

Nel’s head was still spinning from having spent such an unreal amount of money on a dress she would probably only wear once. The girls had returned to the Common Room where they left the dress before Daphne asked her to come to the Courtyard with her to paint since Theodore and Tracey were nowhere to be found.

“Let me get this straight,” Nel said sounding terribly bored as she stood next to Daphne holding a tray of acrylic paints as the girl painted a canvas with the school’s Courtyard. “You’re painting what exactly? Haven’t you painted the same Courtyard at least a dozen times before?”

Daphne looked at her as if she was insane. “Well,” She began her artistic digest. “It’s never really the same is it? No matter how many times I paint it my mood is never the same, the light is never the same. It’s always a different season or a different perspective. Even if to you it’s the same dull courtyard it never is to me. In a way life can be like that too. Like the way a day is always different from the night before or the day to come, or the way two thumbprints or even two loves are never really the same.” Daphne got a dreamy look on her face before realizing she had perhaps gotten too carried away in her passionate artistic declaration. Regardless she didn’t apologize for her boldness. Nel starred at her friend in awe and her eyes scanned the same Courtyard she had been in hundreds of times before. Daphne was… well, right. She had never taken the time to romanticize her day in such a manner, but then again who did?

“Like- take a look, what looks different?” She encouraged.

“The First-Years are playing gobstones by the entrance, Diggory is out of the Hospital surrounded a lot of Hufflepuffs – _typical._ Malfoy is climbing up the courtyard’s tree-“ Her eyes narrowed on the silvery blonde that was suspiciously climbing up that tree he had been up in a couple of weeks ago. However, she found it odd that he was alone.

“That’s weird,” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as he appeared to be carving something into its bark.

Putting the paints on a tall stool next to her friend she approached the tree with a mistrustful attitude. Daphne smiled a little and shook her head. No day was the same as the last. Who knew, maybe today she’d paint the ancient tree being set on fire by Nel Saintday.

Autumn leaves crunched under her feet as she approached the oak tree. Upon closer inspection she saw Draco up on the tree eating a green apple with one hand and indeed carving something into the bark with his wand in his right hand.

“I didn’t take you as a vandal,” She said loudly startling him so much he almost fell down “Then again, why would I be surprised?”  
“Stars, Saintday, don’t sneak up on me!” He snapped rudely before hopping down with a crouch before gracefully dusting any invisible dirt off himself. 

“Why are you vandalizing the tree?” She asked her newest _friend_. If that’s what they were.

“Why are you sneaking up on me?” He shot back defensively crossing his arms over his chest. “Geez, I was just making conversation,” She raised her eyebrows before walking away from the hostile Slytherin. “I figured bothering you would be more entertaining than watching Daphne paint.”

“So, Greengrass and Nott. I take it they’re going to the Yule Ball together,” He commented changing the topic.

“Yeah,” Nel scratched her cheek. “Seems like it.”

They hadn’t really talked about it but judging by how close the two seemed it made sense.

“And Davis?” He walked towards her, the way he seemed to swagger pompously as he took another bite from his apple. Nel shrugged in a disinterested response. Sad that she had no clue who her best friend intended on attending to the dance with. 

“And _you?”_

She gave him a blank look before shrugging in an exaggerated manner. She _wanted_ to go with Ellar Lestrange. She wanted him to ask her, but as of now nothing was official. “How on bloody hell am I supposed to know? They just told us about the stupid dance today,” this time she was the one who raised her guard at the invasive question. He probably wanted to make fun of her just like Pansy had earlier in the day.

“Wouldn’t put it past you to take Professor Snape. You two really swept the dance floor today,” he laughed at the dance lesson they had had earlier that day.

Alright. This conversation was over. Glowering, Nel turned around to return to Daphne. She wasn’t going to stand there just so he could take jabs and make fun of her all afternoon long.

“I’ve got a _proposition_ for you Saintday,” He called as he continued to enjoy himself. 

“I’m not playing any more games with you Malfoy,” She called over her shoulder as she began to walk away from him. “You always cheat.”

That wasn’t a complete lie. The boy had known he would befriend Viktor Krum at the World Cup before he gambled that they would sit together. Last time when gambling during the First Task, well, that had just been sheer dumb luck. Although she wouldn’t put it past him to fix the game in some type of way.

“Come on, I’m offering you a chance to redeem yourself and make up for your loses,” he dangled the offer. It sounded like the kind of thing gambling addicts told themselves. What was one more bet. One more shot to make up for what had been lost. She had already lost some money to him and spent a ridiculous sum of money on a dress. Maybe it wouldn’t have seemed like a lot to him, but Nel cherished every knut and galleon that she worked for. Unlike him, allowing money to slip through her fingers and down the drain wasn’t a luxury she could afford to have.

“How about this,” He proposed sinking a hand into his pocket almost as if he was hiding something. The other still held half an eaten apple, he appeared to be thoughtfully chewing it when he spotted Cedric Diggory across the Courtyard surrounded by other Hufflepuffs.

“I bet you don’t have it in you to ask Diggory to be your escort to the Yule Ball.” She looked at him incredulously. “I’ll give you five, no ten galleons if you do it.”

Alright, so it wasn’t a gamble. It was more of a dare than a bet.

Her eyes turned to also look at the Hogwarts’ Champion who was enjoying his day out. She contemplated the dare for a moment. Malfoy didn’t know her, and Cedric were well acquainted. She could use this to her advantage just like he had previously done with Krum. She had to laugh at his ridiculous offer, “And why would I do that for five- no, ten galleons?” Odds were that Cedric would most likely say no. But the gamble wasn’t if he said yes or no, it was if she dared put herself through that.

“If you’re lucky and he says yes, you get to go with Hogwarts’ _second best.”_

“Second best?” She laughed. If anything, Cedric was Hogwarts most eligible date to the Yule Ball. She could’ve bet that at least a dozen of girls had asked him already.

“However, if he says no,” He leaned in closer and carelessly tossed his unfinished green apple over his shoulder. “You’ll just have to settle for the best of the best,” he flashed her a self-important smile.   
“Who then? _Krum?”_ She asked genuinely curious not aware she was she taking a stab at his swollen ego.

_“Me._ Saintday. I’m talking about me,” He said in an annoyed tone when he realized she wasn’t well aware he was Hogwarts finest. _“Obviously.”_

She gave him a funny look. There was _no way._ An unexpected feeling of nervousness flooded her stomach. She let out a edgy laugh completely taken aback by what he was suggesting. “Are _you_ asking _me_ to the Yule Ball?”

He stood awkwardly and let out a weak laugh and a dramatic scoff.  
  


“All I’m saying is, to make up for your rejection, I’ll put myself through the martyrdom of escorting you to the ball,” He combed a hand though his hair. “I mean, since no one else will,” he just had to add with snide.

Of course, he was going to be a rude arse, even about this. She shot him a foul look and hit his arm harder than she intended to. As if she couldn’t find a date to the ball.   
“How gracious of you,” She drawled out sarcastically.   
“I didn’t know the _great_ Draco Malfoy could be so generous with his time.”

She looked at him hard, with a cross look, “If you’re asking me just say so,” she dared him.

“I’m not,“ he spoke quickly in a defensive tone. She took a moment sizing him up and just what his true intentions were. Why couldn’t he just bloody admit it if he was asking her to the Ball?

“Make it twenty and you’ve got yourself a deal,” She stretched out a hand.   
“Deal,” Both shook on it. “And no-“ She pulled him in still holding onto his hand tightly. “I am _not_ going to the Yule Ball with you.

With that she marched towards Cedric and the other Hufflepuff Sixth and Seventh Years. She stood before them putting on a brave face and combing her hair back as she appeared to be more confident.

Nel didn’t even want to go to the Yule Ball with Diggory or with Malfoy. Her narrow tunnel vision made her obsess over the Beauxbaton student.  
She had a feeling that Cedric would say no and then she would just take Malfoy’s money, blow him off and be twenty galleons richer. Who did the slimy git think he was?   
  
His words stung her just like Pansy’s had earlier _‘_ _if you even manage to get a date for the ball.’_ Maybe she wasn’t the most popular girl in school, or the most pleasant person in Slytherin House but she still wanted to be asked to go to the dance.

“Diggory,” She cleared her throat. “A word,” She pulled at her sweater’s neck hoping he wouldn’t note how bright her ears were. 

His friends all hooted and howl at the request already expecting Elowen to be another girl shooting her shot at going to the ball with Cedric. Nearby bystanders ogled as the two walked to an empty spot in the courtyard. Even Daphne watched from a distance wondering just what had happened since her friend left her side.

Draco watched from underneath the oak tree’s comfortable shade with a smug smirk on his face. There was absolutely no way that Diggory would ever agree to go to the Yule Ball with Elowen. Of course, he had perfectly calculated the outcome of this gamble as he usually did.

He saw her say something to Cedric, her lips moving and body language shifting uncomfortably as she dropped the bomb. Diggory was silent for a moment before speaking.

With that the two walked away from each other.

Elowen walked back with flushed cheeks and her eyes wide in surprise. Draco couldn’t tell if the source of the color was from anger or embarrassment.

“I demand my twenty galleons,” She stuck a handout and looked at him angrily. Still wearing a smug smile Draco pulled out a coin pouch and handed it to her. “We’ll have a good time,” he said genuinely looking forward to the ball.

Eyes turned into slits she almost tossed the velvet coin purse back at him. She didn’t want to go to the ball with him, or with Cedric or with anybody else. This whole thing had been a stupid idea. One that wasn’t even worth twenty galleons.

Malfoy’s plan went down the drain with three simple words: “He said yes.” She said upset.

“You don’t look too happy about it,” He said dryly nothing how disappointed she seemed at the news.

“Of course not!” She snapped. “I didn’t want to go with him or with you! And now I have to go with him!” She screamed. “This is all your fault!” She accused him before retreating back to the inside of the castle. “And for the record!” She stood before again turning to give her a piece of her mind. “I don’t need you to be my pity date. I can get a date whenever I want and with whomever I want. If today wasn’t proof enough for you!” She spat angrily before finally leaving.

Draco tossed his head back and his hid face for a frustrated moment. How could he have majorly messed this up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: *evil laughter*


	23. Chapter 23

"Oi," Nel stopped in her tracks and turned to see none other than Cedric calling after her. "I don't want you to take this personally, but I'm not going to the Yule Ball with you. Is that alright?

She looked at the Hufflepuff in surprise. "I only said yes because I didn't want to embarrass you in front of everybody else. I'm actually planning on asking Cho."

How gracious of Diggory. He was letting her down and he was even good at that. To the older teen's surprise, she actually seemed relieved.

"You seem happy," He laughed a little. "It's a long story," She drawled out really not wanting to relive the tale. "Malfoy dared me to do it. He said if you said no, he'd take pity on me and take me," She rolled her eyes still fuming at his offense.

"Oh?" Cedric wondered out loud. "And you want to go with him?" He asked nosily.

 _"_ _Absolutely not!"_ She cried out louder than he expected. "He was just bullying me like always."

"Sounds to me like he wants to take you," Cedric flashed her a knowing smile.

"Why didn't he just ask then?" She groaned out feeling beyond irritated.

"Also sounds like you him to take you," He teased playfully.

"Nonsense," She glared at him with hostility. "I'm waiting for somebody else to ask me," She avoided his questioning gaze.

"Anything I can do to help?" He offered. Merlin, he was such a Hufflepuff. "You've done enough. Thanks, Ced," She thanked him for sparing her the terrible humiliation of being turned down in front of half of the school. He flashed her one of his infamous smiles. The kind that made girls everywhere melt and it almost made her regret not holding him onto his word.

_(AN: Ha! Bet I really had you there for a moment lol)._

* * *

That had been a couple of weeks ago.

It was officially the third weekend of December, meaning the holiday had just started and the ETA for the Yule Ball was exactly one week.

 **Yule Ball Dress:** Worth it.

 **Yule Ball Date:** Nonexistent.

Elowen was presently brewing a weak version of _Amortentia_ also known as Love Potion #9. The potion had yet to turn red but the pleasant smell of fine wool and lemon tart seemed to flood the Second-Floor girl's bathroom.

"I never had to brew a love potion to get a boy to like me," Moaning Myrtle taunted as she hovered around the Slytherin who was presently focused on properly adding her rose thorns into the light blue potion.

"Shut up Myrtle," Nel glared with great frustration as she sat with her legs crossed underneath her body on the bathroom floor. "You never had to brew a love potion to get a boy to like you because you're _dead."_

"And yet you alive- still cannot manage," she laughed loudly. Nel shot her a nasty look she wanted to throw something at her but knew it would simply phase through her. "At least I'm not _dead,_ " was her lame comeback.

Myrtle scowled in her direction before spewing more insults, shrieking and vanishing into the sink behind the girl making the water splash and rain on the Slytherin Fourth Year. _"Ugh…"_ Nel wiped some water from her brow with great frustration.

"I won't pretend to know why it is you're brewing Amortentia in the Second Floor's bathroom," an invasive voice suddenly interrupted. "And a particularly weak one at that," Professor Snape walked into the girl's bathroom with both of his arms crossed over his torso. He glared down in judgement already assuming the intentions behind her brewing.

"Professor Snape!" Elowen said alarmed staggering to her feet. "How did you-?"

"The stench reeks in the corridor. I wouldn't be surprised if _Mr.-,"_ Snape paused holding his tongue for a moment. " _Whoever,_ stumbled upon you."

Somehow this was even worse than Snape using her to rehearse ballroom dancing with her in front of the entire Slytherin House. Her ears were burning a dark shade of red as she hid her embarrassed face. She wanted to admit it wasn't what it looked like but didn't know how to without getting into trouble.

Now with his hands behind his back, the Potions Master stepped forward peering down into the cauldron and reached down to add an extra dash of pearl dust which in turn turned the potion a bright shade of red before shifting a glittery white powder. The bathroom was filled with a strong cologne smell that made the girl pinch her nose from the potency. It smelled like something familiar she had smelled somewhere in the castle before.

"Carry on," Snape drawled out looking unimpressed. "Five points Slytherin for attempting an advanced potion and with that – my office Monday after dinner." He turned referring to the private lessons he had been giving her.

"Y-Yes, Sir," She nodded her head forward as he left without another word. That had been a close one. The worst part was that Nel didn't want the potion to drug someone with it. The potion would serve a much more evil purpose.

 **Yule Ball Prank** : In the works.

It was part of her end of the bargain with Peeves. He helped her escape that claustrophobic office last year and now she had to do his bidding and ensue chaos at the Yule Ball. Dramatic much, but Peeves liked a show.

The potion was in the making, there were currently several bottles of Spyrit liquor, the strongest liquor known to Wizard kind hidden under her bed. The Weasley twins, her suppliers, weren't sure if it would do much to the Bulgarians, but she had to give it try. She was currently carefully bottling the potion making sure not to spill any when Myrtle again screeching phased through the floor and knocked the bottle out of her hands making her spill the potion on her uniform.

"Myrtle!" Nel shouted angrily as she attempted to rub the strong-smelling potion from her school jumper and skirt. "Serves you right," Myrtle stuck out her tongue and raspberried at the girl before again vanishing. It was almost time for dinner, cursing under her breath the girl packed up the potion in different vials before rushing back to the dining hall. She didn't look any different, but she found it odd that people kept on turning their heads when she passed by them in the Great Hall.

"Smells like home," Ivo, one of the Bulgarians, inhaled deeply as the girl walked behind him. The Bulgarians looked at her oddly as she took her regular seat with the other Fourth Year Slytherins.

"New perfume?" Theodore commented as he lowered his book when he caught a whiff of his friend.

"Why do you smell like halide?" Tracey asked wrinkling her nose, she looked at her friend with paranoid suspicion. "Huh?" Nel asked not even knowing what halide is.

Daphne wrinkled her nose leaning over her dinner plate and visibly sniffing her friend who deliciously smelled like a s'more.

Other students who took noticed in the strong scent all turned their heads towards her. She looked at them uncomfortably. She couldn't just sit and explain to them just what she had been doing.

"Why-" A pair of hands slammed on the table next to her. "Are you wearing Draco's cologne?" Pansy demanded to know with a furious expression. Malfoy looked at the two girls confused. All he could smell was the lemon tart dessert.

"I'm not," She simply answered shooting the girl a wary look. Pansy looked between the brunette and the blond boy that was sitting some seats away with terrible irritation.  
  
Draco had been awfully quiet as of the late, suspiciously dodging Elowen. Then again, so had most of the Slytherin boys, even Blaise Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle. She figured they didn't want to be near her in case she asked any of them to the dance. They didn't need to flatter themselves; it wasn't as if she'd ever do it.

Daphne looked at her friend suspiciously having a feeling of what it was she was really smelling. "Have you found a date to the ball yet?" She asked absentmindedly.

"No, not yet," Nel whispered leaning closer over the table. Her eyes shot to look at the Ellar Lestrange who was sitting all the way across the Great Hall in the Ravenclaw table.

"Why don't you just ask him and get it over with?" Theodore suggested with a careless shrug. Nel looked at him incredulously and then turned back to look at Daphne with disbelief at what the Slytherin was suggesting.

"What's the worst that can happen?" She suggested.

She turned to look at Tracey hoping for a defense. "Just do it. Worst case scenario he says no and he sucks."

With a determined look the girl reached in her bookbag and pulling up a parchment she scribbled something in it rather madly before folding it into a paper plane and enchanting it to fly across the Great Hall. All waited with their eyes obviously fixed on the older teen as he caught and unfolded the parchment looking up and smiling weakly at the girl.

"Is that a yes?" Tracey clenched her friend's arm.

"No," She said smiling back at him. "I asked him to meet me somewhere," She reached for a pumpkin pastry and took a bite that would most definitely make the Lestrange's dining room table kick her before chugging her water and heading off without another word.

"Wait! Nel!" Tracey called after her friend who was already running out of the Great Hall. "Where is she going?" She asked Daphne and Theo who looked at her figure vanishing.

"I hope he says yes!" Daphne gushed excitedly.

_"_ _Shit."_

The three friends turned to look at the Slytherin who had slipped and audibly cursed. For some reason Draco looked caught and almost looked sick with paranoia and guilt.

Xxx

Ellar Lestrange calmly walked up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. He wasn't sure what Elowen Saintday could possibly want to discuss with him. He wondered if his mother had been particularly giving her a hard time. As far as he knew the two had no contact, even if Cloelia regularly asked him for updates on the girl's life. He shared what little he knew about her life.

Opening the trap door to the tower he saw how she stood near the railing mouthing some words to herself practicing a repeated flicking movement with her wand.

"Hey," He interrupted and watched her jump a little.

"Oh! Hi! Ellar!" She laughed nervously before walking towards him and trying to keep her hair tame despite the bad weather. It wasn't a nice night, with a strong wind carrying the cold December air to them.

She stood in front of him slightly swaying her body back and forth as if she was waiting for him to ask her something.

"What can I do for you Elowen?" He asked slightly perplexed as to what she wanted to talk to him about, so privately and up here out of all places.

It wasn't the question she was hoping to hear.

Giving a step back and flickering her wand golden sparks began to fly from the tip as she rapidly moved and waved it writing out four words in her best handwriting in the air.

_'_ _Yule Ball  
U + ME ?'_

She dotted the '?' and the words began to spin in a colorful array of beautiful lights and magic. Ellar made a noise that sounded like a curious chuckle. He looked at her with surprise and took in the rare, yet pleasant scent of red wine that filled the open space between them.

Her heart was jumping at her throat and she looked terribly nervous. Breath quicker than usual. Hand shaking slightly at the fear of rejection.

"Elowen," he managed to say with a tight smile on his purse lips. "What is this?" He waved at the glowing letters above her that had begun to fade as the girl's optimism did too.

"Do you…" She choked on her words. "Do you want to go to the Yule Ball," She paused for a moment swallowing the word that had choked in her throat. _"with me?"_ She looked at him with large and hopeful eyes.

He was quiet for a moment before answering.

It took him only a couple of seconds to answer but time felt like it was moving slower. It might as well have five maybe ten minutes of silence between them.

"Yeah, I would," he spoke softly. Yet despite his positive affirmation, his expression was a sullen one filled with confusion. Her heart leapt for a moment as she held her breath waiting for his answer. "But I thought you were going with Malfoy?"

Silence.

Now it was her turn to be confused. "You mean-" She hoped he had gotten the names messed up. _"Cedric?"_ She asked him with a knotted brow.

"No, I mean _Malfoy_ ," the wavy-haired teen repeated. "I heard you two are going together."

She listened not believing a word he was saying.

"I would've asked you myself, but I didn't want to step on anyone's toes," he shook his head slightly. "So, I asked a friend instead."

She wore a blank expression on her face as the anger began to bubble inside of her. He found it hard to tell just what she could possibly be running through her mind. She had no volatile reaction to his words.

"Word is you _begged_ him to go with you."

It was almost as if he was purposely provoking her, drilling and pushing into her buttons which he was more than well aware would make her blow up despite how cool and collected she had been trying to appear.

Nel's hands were tightly clenched at her sides gripping her wand tightly. Her eyes turned into angry slits, resembling the ones of somebody that could and would kill.

"That I _what?"_ She drawled out now absolutely livid her voice a low hiss.

Ellar's head snapped to the side when he heard a loud pop and saw one of the dim lights of the tower pop making shattered glass fly everywhere. One by one each and every one of them exploded until the two were consumed by an unfamiliar darkness. In a blind rage the girl stormed out of the tower seeking an exit. He stood in the darkness wearing a satisfied sneer.

* * *

Portraits in Hogwarts shrunk, rare students and even some prefects stepped out of the way as they saw the girl full on rampage stomping down the moving stairs making way to the Slytherin dormitory where she was ready to drag someone out of bed and potentially murder them in cold blood. And by them she meant Draco Malfoy who was suddenly turning in the stairs of the second floor.

 _"_ _You!"_ Her loud shout echoed the stairs waking up some of the sleeping portraits as she descended the moving stairs. Malfoy was out of luck as the moving stairs that lead to the third floor moved skewing the directly in his direction. Whipping out her want red sparks flew as she attacked the Slytherin with repeated crimson flashes.

"You conniving, evil, ferret-weasel!" She shouted at him each word being followed by a nasty hex. _"You ruined everything!"_ She shouted at him. Large frames rattled as they trembled and were tossed off the walls. People in the portraits screaming or collapsing as their frames came down to hit the floor.

 _"_ _Expeliarmus!"_ Draco managed to disarm her. She didn't look twice for her wand; she didn't need need magic to do what she was going to do. She leapt off the second step and pushed him back tumbling on top of him. She was about to strike him, but he caught her hands in his.

"I can explain," He attempted to barter with the enraged girl.

"I would rather hear a mandragora scream than listen to whatever pathetic lie you're about to pull out of your ass!" She shouted enraged. The only thing she wanted, the only thing she had been expecting of this year was to have a decent date with a boy she fancied at the Yule Ball and he had taken that away from her and for no good reason. Her dress it would be for nothing. She had been robbed. 

"Elowen, please, let me explain," He swallowed the barbwire knot that had formed on his throat. She let go of his hands pushing them away from her and sat back on the floor looking at him with glassy eyes.

He wanted to ask her to the ball. In a way he had. Not properly. But the two were friends. The two could go to the Yule Ball as friends.  
However,… What would his parents say? What would his mother think?

When his mother had asked him who he planned on escorting to the Yule Ball he had lied and written home that he wasn't interested in any of the girl's his year. His mother had suggested him escorting a Pureblooded young lady such as Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson or even Millicent Bullstrode. Neither Davis or Saintday had been amongst his mother's options and then again, why would they be?

Both of them were barren from Pureblood Society since their names were not included in the Sacred Twenty-Eight Directory.

His father had a peculiar attention for Saintday and so did the Lestranges, but that didn't change the fact that she was a nameless nobody without a knut to her name.

He didn't need to ask to for their permission to know that they would never approve.   
It simply wasn't what was expected of him.  
If anything, it would perhaps make things worse…  
  
However, if he could make it seem as if the two just happened to end up going together – his parents could've been upset, but they would have let it slide. After all it wouldn't have been his fault that the two just _happened_ to end up there together.

"I thought we were friends!" She spoke before he could. "This isn't what friends do to each other. You're a liar and a cheat and I can't believe I trusted you! I do this to myself, over, and over, and over, and over again," She wiped a stray tear that escaped the corner of her eye.

From a higher floor Theodore and Daphne who were also looking for their friend had begun rapidly descending when they heard the commotion of the many paintings collapsing. Tracey ran from the floors below as the five Slytherins met halfway.

"If this is what it's like being your friend, I don't want it!" She tossed angrily standing up as her friends reached her side.

"Nel, please," He could've begged. He stood up feeling both small and self-conscious under the deathly daggers of all her friends were shooting him. Davis already had her wand pointed at him ready to attack and Saintday's in her other.

"Stay away from me!" Nel shouted at him with a broken voice before walking away, her two girl friends following behind. Davis shot him a look that could kill before descending down the staircase. Greengrass shook her head seeming almost disappointed. Even Nott didn't seem pleased as he stuck around levitating the portraits back into their appropriate places and positions on the wall.

"You're a foul git you know that?" Theodore shot him a nasty glare. He had never been one for confrontation but riled up and just as angry as his friends he had to say something.

"Shove off Nott," Malfoy spat back angrily. Who was Theodore Nott to judge him?   
"You think you're better than all of us judging with your beak hidden behind a rotting book."

"If you wanted her to go to the bloody ball with you, why didn't you just ask?" He shrugged in disbelief at the blonde's childishness.

Theodore thought Draco wouldn't answer him, but his words brought him to a halt.

"You know _why_ ," He uttered darkly.

Words which sadly resonated with Theo. There was a reason why he had never invited his friends over to his home.

"What do you think your ancient father would do if you took someone like Saintday home with you?"

Theo didn't want to think about his aggressive father or the things he would say or do to him or his friends if they ever met. He had never confronted his father about it, but the rumor was that Theodore Nott Sr. had even known Voldemort even before he became _You-Know-Who_. Rumors where he was one of the first Death Eaters. Having fought for the dark side in the Wizarding War being an elderly widower, it seemed like Nott had avoided being sent to Azkaban simply by appearing vulnerable and playing his cards right.   
However, Saintday…

"She's not like the others and you know that," Theo spat back. "You think the Lestranges took her in out of the kindness and generosity of their hearts?"

Draco was silent his lips drawn into a serious thin line. Finally hanging the last portrait Nott turned to speak properly to Malfoy.  
Saintday, Davis and Nott never discussed their personal lives at Hogwarts. It was some type of silent unspoken rule that the three had sworn never to cross. Just as Theo never asked Nel about the odd bruises she would sometimes wear she'd never inquire about his family's past siding with the Dark Lord.

"Both, you and I know that they want something from her. Sirius Black taking her away as an infant, living hidden amongst muggles for twelve years, private lessons with Snape, the Lestranges, her being a Parselmouth, the fact she can see therstals…" He trailed off before leaning in close.

Draco was a little stunned at the revelation that Nel could see Therstals. It was a fact that only people that had seen death could see these horrible creatures.

"Whatever it is that they want, it's dark, and it's not… good. Nel already has enough on her plate. She could do without you tormenting her," his green eyes raked the silver haired blonde before scowling his way and leaving Draco to stand under the judging eyes of the school's portraits.

* * *

"I would curse him," Tracey paced the second-floor girl's bathroom. "I swear, I would curse him but he's already a pathetic _and sad_ ," Tracey tossed angrily under her breath as she paced in circles.

"Just stop," Nel shook her head as she pinched the bridge of her nose keeping her head lowered. She really didn't want to think about what had happened with Ellar and specially not with Malfoy.

She could've lived knowing that Ellar didn't want to go with her but knowing that Malfoy had pulled off that nasty trick. Specially after he claimed the two were friends. She didn't know what they were, but whatever they were it wasn't friends. Friends didn't do that to each other.

"It's just-!" Tracey's hands twitched as she clawed and closed them in frustration. _"Why-? Like-? WHO DOES THAT?! What was he thinking_?"

"I don't think he was…" The orphan kept her head lowered pessimistically.

"Nel," Daphne who had been silent all of this time, yet remained observant began. "Have you thought that," She wondered out loud. She wasn't even sure how to proceed what she was going to say without triggering a fight with both of her friends. Both Tracey and Elowen looked at her with confused expressions at what she was so hesitant to say.

"Maybe Draco really did want to go to the Yule Ball with you," She suggested the theory which sounded incredulous to the two other girls. Nel kept her eyes lowered and particularly focused on a wet spot on the bathroom floor. Really not wanting to dissect what Daphne had just said.

"No," Tracey shook her head in denial. "That's just- no," she said borderline disgusted by the theory she deemed to be ridiculous. The odds of the Ballcastle Bats winning the British Quidditch Cup were higher.

"It's not that farfetched," Daphne insisted strongly believing in her peculiar theory. "Think about it. He's constantly hovering around you; he literally pulls your hair in class, and he's always trying to get your attention-" She was interrupted by Tracey.

"Daph, he's just a bully-" She was again interrupted by Daphne who had already began her tangent on this analysis.

"Good or bad – he always tries to get Nel's attention."

The two other Slytherins were still giving the blonde a confused look. It was almost as if she was speaking alien to the two of them.

"What I'm trying to say is that maybe- in case it hasn't crossed either of your minds - _maybe he likes you!"_ She announced. The silence after her sentence was impressive. So impressive you could hear a sink leak drop and drop at the end of the bathroom's sink.

"Daph, that's toxic," Tracey coughed awkwardly after a moment of heavy silence. "What? _Malfoy?_ No- there's no way," She stammered thinking about how ridiculous it was for the scenario to be in the slightest bit realistic.

"I never said it wasn't toxic!" Daphne said defensively simply raising up her hands. "All I'm saying is-"

The two friends began bickering back and forth about how possible or impossible this way. One more passionate than other in the suddenly becoming heated debate. Nel didn't want to think about anything. Burying her face in her hands and taking in a deep stressful breath her two friends grew quiet.

"That's enough," She exhaled finally sitting up. "I don't want to talk about it. Malfoy, Ellar, any of that," She shook her head to the sides. "Trace," she turned to look at her friend. "Do you to go to the ball with me?"

Maybe she should've done this since the beginning. Simply ask a friend to go with her.   
I mean why not? She would've asked Daphne, but she knew that she would be attending the Yule Ball with Theodore.

Nel didn't know what she had been expecting but Tracey grew silent at her question. There was a pregnant silence. It went on long enough that her friends questioned why she had grown mute.

"…I already asked someone," She admitted quietly, almost sullenly as she eggshelled around the topic.

Normally Daphne would've been excited so would've Elowen but instead both looked at her with the same grave expression.   
"Who?" They had to ask.

Tracey took in a deep breath and rubbed the nape of her neck nervously as she braced herself to reveal just where and who she had been spending so much of her time with.

"Leanne Moon, Hufflepuff," she looked at them with a lowered head fearing the judgement that could come.

Nel scrunched up her nose at the revelation. Who was Leanne Moon? It took her a moment to jog her memory and then she remembered that over excited Hufflepuff that had been taking photographs of Tracey during her Quidditch practice. She had seen her around the castle photographic shadows and other moving objects.

Tracey closed her eyes, getting ready to leave, already feeling a cold sinkhole forming in her heart.

"A Hufflepuff?" Daphne snorted letting out a laugh. Nel elbowed the girl sitting next to her also laughing slightly. Both of her friends flashed Tracey an accepting smile that almost made her forget what she had been worrying about for so long. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

"I hope she's cool," Elowen said with the first grin of the night. "Just tell her to stay away from the punch."

* * *

STARRING

THE ORIGINAL CAST OF THE HARRY POTTER SERIES

with

ARDEN CHO as LEANNE MOON

and

NIKKI BLONSKY as MILICENT BULLSTRODE


	24. Chapter 24

“Turkish silk dyed naturally, customed and tailored to fit my frame and grace,” Pansy Parkinson gloated about the bright pink dress that her mother had sent to her. Millicent _‘oohhhed’_ and _‘awwwwed’_ at her friend’s dress. Daphne did the same from the other side of the room as she kept busy doing her friend’s make up.   
Tracey didn’t care and Nel grimaced at the sight, she hated the color pink, it reminded her of Cordelia Wool and all of those other awful people at the orphanage. 

“What’s that face for Saintday?” Pansy shot from across the room when she saw the twisted expression on her face. “I bet it’s better than any rag that you’ll be wearing.”

_Was that a challenge?  
  
_

Proud of having spent her own savings in the purchase of the most elegant piece of fabric she would probably ever own she decided to show off. Despite Daphne’s protest she stood up pulled out a hanged dress out of a large protective bag and with the same hubris showed off the sleek plum colored dress.

“Ha!” Pansy let out a loud snort. “Hideous.” She tossed with her best mean mug.

“I actually quite like it,” Millicent admitted innocently from her vanity looking back as she curled her hair.

“Really?” Nel arched an eyebrow. “Because Daphne was actually the one that chose it,” She smiled at her friend as she put the dress away to return to her chair where the artistic master could finish her latest masterpiece: a perfect Yule Ball look.

“Uh-I-I mean,” Pansy sputtered not wanting to diss Daphne’s taste. However, it was too late, she couldn’t take it back. Her face turned red half from the anger and half from the embarrassment. Feeling overconfident tonight Nel didn’t bother hiding her loud sniggering.

“Stuff it Saintday, acting so smug, you don’t even have a date for tonight!” She stuck out her tongue childishly before flipping her hair over her shoulder and brushing one of her eyebrows into place.

It was true after Nel’s “Date Triangle Fiasco” between Cedric, Draco and Ellar, the girl instead decided she didn’t care enough what anybody thought and to own the night by going stag.

Eyes closed as Daphne professionally applied some bronze eye shadow she frowned at Parkinson’s words. “May I remind you that it was _my_ decision to go stag. I didn’t have to grovel to get a date unlike you.”

_Ouch._

Pansy had been particularly on edge as of the past few weeks. Like most people in the Slytherin House she had heard the rumors that Nel and Draco were going to the Yule Ball together. First, she asks Cedric then tells him no, then Draco asks her – or did she ask him? She wasn’t even sure which rumors were true and which weren’t anymore.   
Of course, she didn’t believe any of them, not until she smelled his cologne on her that one dinner in the Great Hall.  
  


Pansy hadn’t had the heart to ask Draco to the ball no matter how much she tailed after him and he hadn’t asked her no matter how many loud hints she dropped. However, it seemed that her hints were misinterpreted, and Crabbe thought she wanted _him_ to ask _her._ Not wanting to bear the humiliation of going to the ball alone, she accepted. That didn’t mean she wasn’t willing to ditch Crabbe in a heartbeat if she saw a smidge of an opportunity of getting with Draco tonight.

Daphne would be attending with Theodore.   
  
Tracey with Leanne.   
  
Millicent with Goyle, the girl looked really good in emerald.

“At least I’m not going with a _girl_ -“

Daphne almost dropped the make-up brush she was holding. Tracey who was putting on her glimmering jumpsuit stiffened at the jab. A solemn expression on her face at the unnecessary comment. She remained silent as she zipped up her side.

“What did you say?” Triggered at what she had said about her friend Nel again rose from her chair. This time Daphne did not protest. Having gone from zero to a hundred the girl looked livid.

Millicent’s brown eyes darted from one side of the room to the other as the tension in the room escalated. That really was an unnecessary comment. The word mudblood and other derogatory terms were tossed around Slytherin House without much care on a regular basis. However, for somebody- for fucking Parkinson – to toss that kind of malicious comment at Tracey, who was already terribly self-conscious – it was unforgivable.

“You heard,” Pansy shook her shoulders exaggeratedly and before she could laugh a curse shot across the room and nasty boils filled with puss began to sprout on her face. She shrieked in horror at the dreadful sight of her reflection and got ready to strike back but before she could retaliate her wand flew out of her hand.

“Good luck getting rid of those before the dance,” Nel glowered with hatred. “We’re done here,” She said dryly before stepping on Pansy’s wand. The wand’s owner was on the floor scrambling for her weapon and stopped when she saw a foot stomp on top of it.

“That better be the first and last time I hear you say something like that,” the brunette warned before kicking the wand under the bed.

With that she turned away picking up a large bag that was by the exit of the dormitory getting ready to go and set up for tonight’s catastrophic plan. Pansy glared at her with intense hatred. Her blood was boiling, Nails burying into the palms of her hands as she felt the fury bubbling up inside her.

“Don’t be late!” Tracey called after her friend with a grateful smile.

All Nel heard as she descended down the stairs was a rage filled scream that echoed the corridor.

* * *

  1. Spiked pastries with _Love Potion #9_?
  2. Spike the punch fountain with heaps of Spyrit?
  3. Mess up the plumbing of the outdoor loos?



Everything was ready. Even Peeves was around eager and ready to cause havoc. Due to the amassing number of students the heads of each school had set up a massive tent outside of the castle grounds, students would arrive in carriages, dance the night away and return back to their individual schools at the end of the night.

The circus like tent was massive and the set up was like nothing Nel had ever seen before with a long table of pastries and finger food. A towering fountain with seven levels of waterfalls of spiked light pink punch cascaded down into a large bowl. The edges of the ballroom were heavily decorated with Christmas trees that seemed to be enchanted to slowly spin behind many large round tables.

“Ms. Saintday-“ A voice piped.

Having been caught in the tent, Nel froze whipping her wand behind her back and turning to face Professor Flitwick.

“Eager to participate as always,” He said with a small smile. Honestly, bless his clueless soul. “Y-Yeah, you know me,” Nel raised her hands in an innocent shrug as she played along in the lie. “Always eager to help,” She said with forced enthusiasm. A Slytherin? Helping and for no self-interest or convenience? How was Professor Flitwick not suspicious?

“Excellent then, you can help me enchant the sky and set up the lights and streamers.”

_Shit._

Nel really didn’t have any time for this. She still had to get back to the dormitory to get her hair done and get dressed up and looking nice for the evening. But now that she had been caught how was she supposed to swindle her way around Flitwick and back to the castle without raising any suspicion?

Without much choice the Fourth Year stayed behind and set up the decorations with the Charms professor.

“Say, Ms. Saintday, I’m curious,” the small man began, both were presently focused on properly enchanting the dozens of stars and snowflakes that would magically snow down inside of the tarp. “Have you given any thought to your future?”   
She was silent for a moment waiting for him to proceed. “Career wise, I mean,” he specified. “I think you would do well with the Ministry.”   
  
“Thank you, professor, but I’m actually more interested in the art of curse breaking. You see, I enjoy puzzles.” She explained finally lowering her wand and turning to face the Charm’s Master.   
“Gringotts’s would be lucky to have you. I’d be more than glad to recommend you, if you’re ever interested in an internship at the bank.”

“Really?” She responded without missing a beat, almost too eagerly, too overexcitedly. “I mean, really,” She cleared her throat appearing more composed. “I’d greatly appreciate it,” She even bowed her head down nervously, then felt self-conscious he might see it as an insult because of his height and stood up straight before nodding at the man.

Beaming she exited the tent and took the long road back to Hogwarts avoiding all of the passing carriages that were beginning to arrive to the tent’s ballroom. She rushed into the castle barely catching her breath when she arrived to the empty dormitory. Rushing in from the outside cold, she tossed her scarf, knitted hat, gloves and coat over the bed rapidly leaving a messy trail of clothes as she pulled out her dress from her wardrobe.

Hair, makeup, jewelry, shoes, dress- She really didn’t’ have time to waste she was already late – _dress?_

She had to do a double take when she pulled her dress out of the protective bag. Holding the soft fabric in her hands she looked at it with revulsion. The dress had been shredded; large globs of Daphne’s oil paints had been smeared in random rage filled spatters of color. The bottom was ragged, sliced and torn.

Her dress was ruined.

Elowen held her breath for a moment. She brought a clean part of her dress to her face and inhaled deeply. The scent of fresh paint filling her nostrils.

_Pansy._

It had to have been that fucking bitch Parkinson. Who else would do something so evil?

Several fish, a grindylow and a creature that could possibly be the Loch Ness monster all calmly swam by the thick windows of the Slytherin Common Room. The water was still and the night was calm until a shrill loud scream sent them scattering away. The thick windows rattled violently as a deep crack carved one of them in a spider web pattern threatening to break. An angry screamed echoed Hogwarts’ empty corridors.

The lights in the room popped making glass rain in the dormitory. Millicent Bullstrode’s cat screeched as it scrambled out of the room.

Alone, rabid with a wounded pride and mainly a stinging wallet the Slytherin girl attempted to shut down her emotions. After the scream she quietly sat in her bed wallowing in the familiar darkness.

She had sworn she wouldn’t let anyone, or anything ruin her night, but _this_ \- That dress had cost her blood sweat and tears and now it was ruined. Even if she wanted to go to the ball what was she supposed to wear? Her uniform? She kicked off her shoes with grave frustration and angrily threw one across the room.

She looked at Pansy’s belongings twisting and turning in her head just what she could do to ruin her, to make her hurt, to make her feel the same pain she was feeling but there was nothing that came to mind. If anything, she’d just write home and have her belongings replaced. In defeat she tossed her dress into the rubbish bin and returned to her bed, her nails sinking into the mattress.

Whatever she did, she would destroy Parkinson for this.

Still angry, she stood up and kicked the bin making its contents tip over. She was so distraught by her volatile emotions she didn’t see Peeves the Poltergeist peeking his head in through the ceiling. He peered around nervously as if looking for the Bloody Baron before fulling entering through the ceiling.

“You’re not holding up the end of your bargain Spots!” He said angrily.

The poltergeist flinched slightly when he saw the murderous look in the girl’s eyes.

“I’m not going,” She uttered darkly.

Stupid ball. Stupid dress. Stupid dates. Stupid everything.

“The loos haven’t blown up yet,” He said with bitterness at the lack of chaos in the ballroom. “They won’t unless I’m there, and since I have nothing to wear, I can’t go.”

“Your clothes are fine!” The poltergeist said with frustrated anger as he extended a hand which phased right through her. 

“Dress,” She stressed. “I need a decent dress or an evening gown,” She tossed as she removed her socks and began making herself comfortable in her bed. Perhaps the best ending to today would simply be calling it a night and angrily going to bed.

Without another word Peeves vanished.

She figured he went off to unleash chaos on his own account. Letting out a breath she had been holding, she closed her eyes relaxing into the mattress, trying to clear her mind like Professor Snape had taught her and not thinking about anything or anyone at all.

She was about to reach a pleasant level of mindfulness when she felt a heavy weight being dumped on her. Surprised she staggered awake, sitting up in the bed to see a mountain of evening gowns and dresses spilling from the sides of her bed.

Throwing some to the side to emerge from the avalanche she looked at the fabrics on her bed with bewilderment. Now she didn’t have one dress, there were at-least four in the bed. Most were nicer than anything she owned and would probably ever own. They were even nicer than the plum dress she had gotten at Hogsmeade.

Still in shock she looked down at the fabrics. One dress was sleek and a light beige almost golden color, another was black with lace, tule and a large body, another was short and black with long sleeves.

“Where did you get these?” She asked not believing what she had at hand. They were all beautiful. Then again, this was coming from someone who didn’t know much, if anything about fashion.

“The Come and Go Room,” Peeves half explained sticking out his tongue and laughing loudly. Whatever that meant- her makeup had survived her tantrum. She made a mental note to find just what the “Come and Go Room” was.   
  


“Let’s go,” the poltergeist laughed. “I want my boom, shock and pzwaa!!” He cried loudly as he cackled vanishing into one of the walls.

Dressing up, quickly brushing her straight hair she rushed down the dormitory and out of the common room. She didn’t even notice the noticeably, deep crack that had formed in one of the lake’s watery windows.

What was she waiting for?

* * *

The TriWizard Tournament Champions had already been introduced and danced a stringing waltz.   
  
A vision of snow fell over the ballroom and vanished on an invisible thin line in the air that gave the inside of the massive tent a Winter Wonderland feeling. Starry night skies had been enchanted in the ceiling. The ballroom looked even more spectacular than before, now packed and crowded with students from Hogwarts, Beauxbaton and Durmstrang all wearing their evening wear or in the case of the Romanian their traditional Bulgarian crimson cloaks.

“Has anyone seen her?” Tracey asked her friends concerned. Theodore who was the tallest of the group stuck his neck up high taking a glance around for anyone that fit their lost friend’s description.

“Not in the premises,” He clicked his tongue.

“I’m sure your friend will be just fine,” Leanne Moon, a Fourth Year Hufflepuff and photography fanatic, said. “She doesn’t seem like the type to get easily caught up with things.”

“Maybe we should go and look for her in the dormitory?” Tracey added worried. Daphne failed to hide the way her rosy lips turned down into a frown, she didn’t want to spend the Yule Ball looking for her friend.

“She’ll be fine Trace,” She let out an exasperated breath. “Come on, let’s go get some punch.”

“Probably not the best idea,” Theodore grinned knowing it was best not to drink too much of the spiked punch. “Nel said not to touch anything, not even the punch.

“Why can’t we touch the pastries again?” Asked the Hufflepuff curiously.

“I’ve learned not to question why,” Tracey mused as she followed after the others.

Around the finger foods and beverages table lingered other students who were chatting amongst themselves or eyeing their love interest from across the room. A group of Slytherins stood nearby.   
Crabbe and Goyle hadn’t wasted a moment in stuffing their faces with the raspberry crème pastries that were heavily dosed with Love Potion #9 causing them both to be overzealous and hyper enthusiastic about their respective dates almost as if in a trance. Millicent was, of course, over the moon. Pansy, who was still fawning over Draco who looked like a prince with his pristine black and white robes, could care less for Crabbe’s attentions.

“You should’ve seen what Saintday was wearing. It was disgusting. A house elf could have worn that- hell a house elf could’ve used that rag to wash dishes,” She laughed cruelly.

Blaise Zabini shared a small laugh with his friend while he enjoyed the spiked punch. Draco who was also standing with them looked down at his drink dolefully. Blaise seemed to be thriving in this environment having come stag so he could dance with as many French girls as he could. Being of a shyer nature Draco mostly kept to himself having shared the waltz with a Bulgarian girl that sat in the Slytherin table before he was interrupted by Pansy who cut in and abruptly ended it.

“I mean- she couldn’t even find a date to the dance. And then she invented that abhorrent rumor she was going with you,” She was speaking directly to Malfoy now. “How mortifying!” She laughed cruelly. “That’s why she _really_ didn’t show.”

“Yeah,” Millicent laughed. “What a loser,” She commented happy that she had scored a date with her crush. Bullstrode took a bite of one of the pastries and her eyes went wide, pupils dilated black when she did, her body suddenly feeling very light, warm and tingly all over. She swallowed hard. Goyle leant over and placed a hand on her shoulder asking if she was alright. Why did his hand send that small jolt of electricity down her body? And why did Gregory suddenly look even more handsome in his all dark dressing robes?

“She’s pathetic. Right, Draco?” He snapped out of his thoughts when he felt Pansy clinging to his arm like a constrictor boa. She must’ve been on her third or fourth drink. Behind her Crabbe looked particularly heartbroken at her rejection.

Draco felt sick about what he had done. He didn’t feel like drinking, dancing or even laughing at how ridiculous Crabbe and Goyle looked with that dazzled doe like look in their small eyes.

“Do you ever stop talking?” He didn’t know what came over him when he harshly snapped at Parkinson. He looked at her surprised expression before shrugging off her touch and dusting off his shoulder as if she had soiled his robes.

“What’s with him?” Zabini asked with a curious small laugh as Draco stepped away from them.

“Look it’s Nel!” He heard Davis’ loud voice shout.

He stopped in his tracks looking towards the descending stairs of the entrance.

Not a lot of students noticed Elowen as she descended down the stairs, most were distracted with dancing, drinking, eating or paying attention to their dates. Peeves’s mischief was restricted by the Headmaster so he stuck to tripping people and jumping between the decorative armors uttering filth at anyone who passed by.

Professor Snape who was on his way out of the ballroom, wearing his usual black robes and dodging a professor that had probably had a spiked pastry and wanted to very badly to dance with him.

“Fancy a dance Professor?” Nel asked with a teasing grin as they met. He had already humiliated her in front of all of Slytherin House. It was time for the tables to be even.

“I’d rather drown Saintday,” he uttered coldly before sparing her a glance as he passed her by. Yup, that was Snape for you.

Descending down the stairs she felt a little nervous but successfully managed to avoid the judging gazes of other students. Sitting closest to the stairs she spotted a mop of red hair and a second mop of messy black hair, both unmistakable.

“Hi Harry, Hi Ron,” She greeted them both with a bright smile. They did not return it. Both of them look miserable slumped down on a chair with their arms crossed over their chests scowling. Harry looked handsome but why was Ron dressed look like the Cowardly Lion from the Wizard of Oz?   
Their dates upset faces mirrored their enthusiasm.

“You two look like you’re having a blast,” She chortled sarcastically. Turning her head, she saw Hermione looking radiant in a floaty dress she couldn’t tell if it was lilac or periwinkle. The most shocking part was who her date was. Out of all things she was expecting to see this evening Granger dancing with Viktor Krum was not one of them. Both looked like they were having a great time.

“Talk about a plot twist,” she whistled surprised at the couple.

“Who’d you come here with?” Harry asked shaking his head slightly. His eyes were fixed on Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw who was sweeping the dance floor with Cedric Diggory.   
  
“Myself?” She half shrugged.   
  
“You can do that?” Ron said in a ghastly breath which made his date slap his arm with her purse before standing up and walking away. He didn’t seem to care.

“Saintday actually looks half decent,” Blaise Zabini said to the group of Slytherins that watched the interaction from a far. “More than half decent,” He corrected himself, his dark eyes taking in the strapless tule black night gown the fellow Slytherin was wearing.

“That dress-!” Elowen turned around when she heard Daphne’s voice. “Wow, that happened to-?” Her eyebrows went up in surprise, face twisted into a confused look. It took her a moment to put two and two together.   
  


_“Pansy,”_ The two girls spoke in unison.

Daphne looked beautiful; she was wearing a creamy colored champagne dress with hundreds of embroider crystals that seemed to sparkle. Her blonde hair was tied up in an elegant knot.

_“Why!”_ livid, Daphne was ready to give Pansy a piece of her mind.

“No, no,” Nel held her back to everyone’s surprise. “None of that tonight. We’re going to have a good time!”   
  
“Yeah,” Tracey snorted. “I hope Parkinson has a good time with those god-awful boils on her face. Was it me or did they spell your name?”

The group laughed loudly at the joke; Theodore looked handsome all in black with golden cuffs with his initials. No doubt a family heirloom. Tracey wore an elegant single sleeved jumpsuit and Leanne a knee length light blue spaghetti strap dress.   
  


Her friends all exchanged a look of surprise at the uncharacteristic decision. The rock band that was playing was presently playing a mellow song.

“Alright then!” Tracey thrusted her fist up in the with a loud whoop. “Let’s dance then!” She said taking Leanne’s hand and swaggering towards the dance floor. Leanne who was holding a large camera dangling around her neck smiled through the lens as she photographed her date.

“Let’s go then,” Theodore said cooly also taking Daphne’s hand and leading her to the dance floor where crowds of students were moving to the beat of the Weird Sisters playing their number one hit “Magic Works”.

Elowen began following after her friends when she spotted someone from across the room. “I’ll catch up,” She said to them quickly before turning and walking towards a large round table.   
  
He looked terribly handsome in a sharp dark velvet blue suit. Curly hair combed back neatly. Approaching she could hear them all tittering amongst themselves and speaking in French that she couldn’t comprehend. All also looked stunning in their gowns and formal robes. Ellar Lestrange was chuckling and rubbing the edge of his pointy nose when she approached him.

“Hi,” She said tapping his shoulder.

Turning his eyes, it took him a moment to recognize who was speaking to him. “Elowen,” he spoke caught off guard, not rising from his seat to greet her. “You could be a veela,” he said the edge of his lips turning up as he delivered the strange compliment before taking a sip from a silver flask he was hiding under the table. A veela? what a strange compliment, a beautiful semi-human creature that is seductive to men, but when angry turn into a cruel-beaked bird like creature with scaly wings.

“Thanks,” The girl responded nervously, quicker than she had expected to say. “Want to dance?” She blathered.

She was looking good. She was feeling good. If there was any night to shoot her shot it was tonight. Afterall, anything can happen at the Yule Ball.

Ellar’s nose wrinkled a little, his eyes lazily darted to the dancing crowd. “Not at the moment,” he said curtly, his smile a thin line that lingered on his pressed lips.

Feeling a little defeated yet not letting it get to her Nel shook his rejection off and returned to her friends.

The group danced jumping up and down to the loud beat, at some point silver confetti fell from the skies. A mob of Durmstrang students were around them. Overall it was a great time. She even saw Cedric dancing next to his girlfriend, the two exchanged a smile as they continued to jump up and down with their respective groups of friends. All the Slytherins shouted singing to “Do the Hippogriff” while thrusting their fists up in the air. Nel was happy to have come along and with their friends, despite everybody being coupled up, several Bulgarian students took her hand and gave her a spin or two, amongst them Viktor Krum’s friends, Ivo and Marko.   
On the other side of the dance floor Draco did the same with his friends. Blaise was dancing with a girl from Beuxbaton and much to Crabbe’s delight after eating a couple of pastries Pansy was more than willing to dance with him. Millicent and Goyle were engrossed with each other with her arms wrapped around his neck. Draco found himself absentmindedly bobbing his head up and down to the beat of the music. Maybe he had attended alone but at least he didn’t look as pathetic as Potter and Weasley who were sitting on the sidelines looking absolutely miserable. He found comfort in the pink punch he was drinking and busied himself with it, his eyes glued to a girl in a dark dress who was having the time of her life dancing not with one, but with _two_ older Durmstrang students.

Daphne, usually the most perceptive of the group, was so diverted by her date, the dancing and the music she didn’t notice the way the blond was intently and very obviously starring at her friend from across the room.

Seeing Harry and Ron looking flat out glum in the table at the end, wanting to share the enthusiasm of the night Elowen picked up her dress and approached them.

“Come dance with us!” She said giddily to the two Gryffindors.

Ron arched an eyebrow the thought of spending his evening dancing with a lot of Slytherins was enough to make him nauseous. With his arms crossed over his chest his answer was a deep scowl. Harry was more polite and simply shook his head with indifference.

Oh well. Turning her head to look for the Beauxbaton table this time she saw Ellar sitting in between two girls his grade. He rubbed a hand over his nose but seemed more preoccupied with something else. Taking in a deep breath and gathering her courage she decided to give it another shot. The rock music beat was slowing down as the band took a break and more pop like music began to play for couples to dance.

“I love this song,” she lied through her teeth approaching his table. He turned to look at her with indifference. She waited a second waiting for him to ask. “Feel like dancing?” She asked her voice squeaking at the end already dreading the rejection that was coming.

“My feet hurt,” he lied unfazed in a cold matter holding little to no sympathy.

“It’ll be fun,” She persisted, her eyebrows knotting. What was she doing wrong? She looked the part, stunning wearing a rare midnight colored dress, hair and make-up done and he had said he would ask her. What had changed? What had she done wrong?

“Sorry,” He apologized. “I don’t do dancing,” he grumbled something under his breath before taking another sip from his silver flask. “Have a good time,” he said in a dismissive matter before turning away and draping an arm over the blonde’s shoulders. The girl flashed her a smug pitiful look.

_‘“I would’ve asked you myself, but I didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes,” he shook his head slightly. “So, I asked a friend instead.”’_ Had that been a lie?

She felt as if he had thrown a glass of cold water at her face. Feeling ugly, with a bruised ego she turned away defeated. Giving two steps realizing she couldn’t give him the power to ruin her night she made her way to the punch fountain walking with her head held tight.   
  
She desperately helped herself to a cup of the spiked punch hoping the effects of the alcohol would ease the soreness of Ellar’s second rejection.

“I can’t believe that frog actually let you come alone.”   
  
She felt a breath tickle the back of her shoulder. Turning and dodging away from the familiar voice she stepped away from the individual invading her personal space.

After everything he had done Draco still had the audacity to speak to her.   
Tonight, Malfoy resembled what she imagined looking like a Count with a pristine white vest, collar and matching bowtie. His long, dark robes were sharp and dark like most of the clothes he usually wore. Long hair elegantly parted on the side.

_‘“Stay away from me!”_ _’_ She still remembered the last words she had said to him. _  
  
_

"Draco,” She faced him.   
  
Already feeling exhausted even drained by his presence. He was a little surprised she had actually acknowledged him by his name. “I am deeply offended that you are speaking to me right now,” She look a heavy sip from her punch basically downing the whole cup. “And it was _my_ decision to come stag,” She said without flinching.   
  
“You look bloody stunning,” He spoke sincerely in a low tone stepping towards her.  
  
Whatever it was she had been expecting him to say had not been that. It was the kind of thing people said to their _dates_ not to their enemies.

In that moment Daphne’s voice spoke inside of Nel’s head ‘ _maybe he likes you!’_ Malfoy fancying her? What a ridiculous thought.

She let out an uneasy laugh and inched back away from him. Had he been drinking the punch? He was probably intoxicated and didn’t even know what he was saying. That was more likely. She was waiting for the comeback to come, for the shade or for a vulgar word to spew from him but it never came.   
  
“Have you been drinking the punch?” She asked arching an eyebrow in his direction.

He didn’t answer her question and instead boldly reached for her, his arm wrapping around her and pulling her forward towards him. “Dance with me,” he demanded without waiting for an answer. “No,” She shot him an ugly look and pushed him off. “After everything you’ve done to me you want me to dance with you?” She let out a haughty and incredulous laugh. “I told you to stay away from me!”

He stood his ground not wavering so did she.

“Don’t be difficult Saintday,” the edge of his lips pulled up into a crooked smile. Did he think this was some time of game?

Fuming she turned away ready to walk away from the most unpleasant interaction of the evening.

“Fine,” He said sharply to her turned back. “If you’re not going to dance with me because you want to, at least do it to piss off that French git.”   
  
She was brought to an abrupt stop by his words. She didn’t even question how he knew. Somehow, Draco _always_ knew. Turning to face him with hesitation she weighted the outcome. What was one dance?   
Maybe if Ellar saw her dance, maybe he’d be jealous? Maybe he’d change his mind about dancing? Malfoy’s expression was almost fox like filled with a managed mischief as he stretched out his hand to her.

Her eyes jumped from his gray ones back to his stretched-out hand and to the Beauxbaton table across the room. It was tempting, very tempting. She looked at his hand almost fearfully. Pansy had already ruined her dress what was the worst thing that could happen?   
  
She reached for it, but something was holding her back.

“Wait,” She paused unexpectedly being flooded by a wave of flushing nervousness.   
  
“Um… What if… I mean,” She ran a nervous hand through her hair stammering in a foreign nature. “I’m not very graceful-“ Nel had almost ruined Professor Snape’s shoes during her first dance lesson, she suspected this time it wouldn’t be any different. Draco on the other hand had probably been taking lessons since he could walk like the majority of the other Purebloods. “I mean. I don’t know how to dance,” she admitted.

He didn’t seem to care.   
  
“Come here,” He said with a growing smirk at her apprehensiveness. Taking her hand and pulling her towards the dancefloor the momentum causing the girl to stumble forward. He pulled her in at a close distance that was too close for comfort. He held her left hand in his, his other on her waist. Unsure of what to do she placed her hand on his shoulder like Snape had instructed during his torturous dance lesson.

The two danced around the dark room to a three-beat song. Draco moving expertly with experienced grace and Elowen constantly stepping and stumbling on his polished shoes making him wince every couple of steps. She really wasn’t doing it on purpose.

“You weren’t wrong when you said you couldn’t dance,” He winced at what seemed to be the fourth time she stepped on him. She smiled innocently enjoying putting him through the pain. It was more than well-deserved, git.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” She said cheekily. Caught off guard he lifted her up in a spin. Letting out yelp, disconcerted she buried her face on his shoulder when they landed. “God, are you trying to kill me Malfoy?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” He said torturously wincing as she once again stepped on him.

Through the darkness and the dancing couples, not noticing the odd looks she was getting from some of her friends, she looked away feeling more self-conscious with each step. The only reason she had agreed to dance with Malfoy was to get under Ellar Lestrange’s skin, yet he seemed indifferent to this. One of his hands was on a French girl’s knee, the other around another’s shoulders as he leaned in and either kissed her face or whispered something to her, she couldn’t really distinguish or tell which gesture was worse. Draco immediately felt her shift in emotion when her steps instead became dragged slides and her face dropped.

“I told you he was an arse,” he murmured pulling her close enough so that she could hear over the loud music. “I don’t know why you blindly believe everything he says to you.”

She sighed with sadness ignoring his words. Ellar wasn’t even looking at her or in her direction. He honestly didn’t care about her. Quickly glancing around the room, she spotted Theo and Daphne dancing all the way across on the other side of the ballroom. Leanne and Tracey were sitting on a table looking at some photographs that Leanne had taken.

“I just…” She stopped herself. “I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong,” her voice faltered. Lowering her hands, she began to turn away from him halting mid dance. “And what?” He held her in place. “You’re going to go sit down and cry over some git that’s not even worth an ounce of your attention?” He huffed at her pridefully.

Great advice coming from the arsehole that had made her cry more than a handful of times over the past four almost five years.  
  
“Go check on your date,” She grumbled not wanting to dissect his words, dropping his hand and walking away from him.

Retreating she sat with Tracey and Leanne who were sitting on a nearby table.

“Did my eyes really just see what I think they saw?” Tracey said gaping at her friend in horror as she joined them.   
“Was that you _dancing_ with Draco Malfoy?” Leanne asked with a small smirk.

“Yeah,” The girl said absentmindedly as she took a drink from Tracey’s cup of water.

“You two looked really cute. I even took a photo,” Leanne said pulling up an animated picture of the two dancing in the middle of the room. It was the moment when he lifted her.

“Don’t encourage it!” Tracey elbowed her with panic in her voice.

‘ _Maybe he likes you!’_ Again, Daphne’s voice was inside her head.  
  
“Merlin,” She flashed the Hufflepuff a ridiculous look her face feeling a little hot. “It’s not like that.”   
  
“Yeah, all hell would freeze over twice before that happens!” The three shared a laugh at Tracey’s comment. However, the laughing ceased after a moment and Nel felt a deep sadness. She turned to look over her shoulder her eyes seeking for the French boy that had already rejected her twice in the evening, but he was gone. Scanning the mobs of students, she saw him walking into one of the restrooms with the two girls he had been with. Without any explanation she stood up and followed him in.

Why was he even going into the girl’s restroom?

Walking into the girl’s restroom she eyed him oddly as he was bent over the sink with his back to her.  
  
“Ellar?” She asked, almost afraid to interrupt whatever he was doing.

Whipping his head up he turned and snorted a white powder from the edge of his nostril.

“Elowen,” He said her name not in shock of having been caught in such a compromising position but more in acknowledgement. He whipped the white powder from the edge of his nose a familiar tick that had been developed from his filthy habit.

The two Beauxbaton girls starred at the Slytherin displeased with her invading presence as the three kept busy snorting dragonpuffs. She saw the way one of the girls grabbed onto Ellar’s neck and tilting his head to the side messily poured the powder on his neck before tracing a line with her tongue and then rubbing it into her gums.

“Join us?” He questioned twisting his neck up straight, fidgeting and adjusting his velvet robes.

“Isn’t she like your little sister?” The other tossed snidely.

Feeling her mouth being dry Nel said nothing else to him and walked out in shock. She bumped into students and professors. People seemed to move out of her way at the dazzled expression on her face. She walked directly for the punch fountain and downed at least three cups shaking her head.

Ellar was a liar. Not only that but he engaged in that filthy habit and with those girls. She could still see the way that girl’s tongue traced the side of his neck before kissing his jaw. She flinched slightly, the memory. Draco was right. He was always right. He had warned her more than once and she hadn’t listened. Maybe everything he had said to her really was a lie, maybe he really didn’t mean anything to her.

_“You’re going to go sit down and cry over some git that’s not even worth an ounce of your attention?”_ His words echoed her head. She had to find him. Looking around almost desperately she walked past Daphne and Theodore who were about to stop her and ask her if she was alright.  
  
It was then that she spotted him by the entrance with his hands in his pockets standing next to Blaise Zabini who was checking out some Durmstrang students, no doubt sizing up which one he would hit on next.

“Elowen Saintday care for a dance?” Zabini flashed her his most charming smile stretching out his hand. Unaffected by his charms she starred down at his hand. Every time she thought of Blaise, she was always brought back to that awful moment in Hogsmeade when he humiliated her in the Three Broomsticks making her blow up the restaurant.  
“You don’t look half bad. You clean up well. I almost forgot you’re a nameless mongrel from the streets,” He insulted when his pride was wounded by her rejection.   
  
“I’d rather eat shit.”   
  
“Ladies shouldn’t curse,” he glowered.   
  
“Get fucked,” she moved past him and came face to face with Malfoy who was about to get in a carriage back to the castle. Millicent and Goyle had just gotten in one and from the looks of it they were eager to eat each other’s faces all the way back to the castle.

She didn’t know who he was waiting for or what he was doing standing by the exit. Pansy was probably off somewhere fawning over Crabbe. Draco turned to look at her and she looked like she was about to cry. Her nostrils flared like they did when emotions were running high. It had been such a long day, such an emotionally dreadful day. He knew it had to have been that French git, that arsehole.

Emotions were running at an all-time high at the Yule Ball. Some students were vomiting for their lives outside of the tent, others were tripping and stumbling making professors take points of houses and help them back to the castle due to the punch intoxications. Couples had been made and others had broken up due to the influence of the spiked pastries. Overall it was a mess. Scattered girls were seated in the stairs consoling their crying friends. Ron and Hermione were shouting at each other in the middle of the dance floor.

“Want to dance?” He asked in the middle of the hellstorm.

In a nearby distance Peeves cackled maniacally as he enjoyed the unwinding storm.

She nodded sadly and she reached to tug on the edge of his sleeve, instead he grabbed her hand. Harry who was sitting on a table nearby with his arms crossed over his chest gawked at the scene.   
She walked close to his shoulder; he didn’t say anything as they reached the mostly empty dancefloor where few unaffected couples swayed together to slow music.   
  
They assumed a dancing position. He still didn’t say anything.   
  
“I saw him,” She began to explain. “With them.”   
  
She was waiting for him to call her out. To maybe mock or boast that he was right by rubbing it in his face, yet the sneer never came.

“You’re right. I can’t just sit and allow him to ruin my night. I don’t want to look as miserable as Harry or Ron.”

“So, you saved the last dance for the best dancer,” He smiled as the two swayed together.

She let out a slight huff and shook her head the edge of her mouth turning up in the smallest of smiles.   
  
“Where’d you leave Parkinson anyway?” She asked changing the subject not wanting to delve into anything to emotional.

“She’s with her date,” He simply responded. “I came alone.”

She looked at him oddly. “Why?” She had to ask.   
  
“Do I need a reason why?” He dodged bringing his defenses up.

“Yes,” She stepped on him accidentally making him bite the inside of his cheek. “Most people have them,” she ignored the brief flash of pain in his face.  
  
“I thought it be fun,” He spat defensively in an unenthusiastic tone that made it clear it was an obvious lie. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Draco was a liar, and a cheat and she didn’t know how it was he always managed to snake his way back into her life like the venomous adder that he was. Maybe it was the Spyrit spiked punch acting through her not allowing her to care about whatever judgment this dance would bring.

“Can I tell you something?” She offered and he remained silent allowing her to continue.

“The worst part is that… If you had properly asked me to the ball. I might’ve actually said yes.”

“You would’ve?” He asked in surprise.

Probably not, but she was here to get answers not more questions.

“Maybe,” she half shrugged with a weak smile. “Why didn’t you just ask?”

Why in the bloody hell didn’t he just ask instead of creating such an elaborate lie?

Bracing himself with the little braveness he had, he gathered some courage.   
“I was afraid you’d say no,” he confessed.

_He had done all of this_ – _all of this bloody mess_ \- Cedric, Ellar, the bet, the fight everything - because he was scared that she’d say no?

“Coward,” She shot coldly without sympathy. 

Her word stung him. She didn’t know what she was asking of him when she asked him to do things like this. Nel had nothing, therefore she had nothing to lose. Him on the other hand, everything was always on the line.

Just in cue the song was over. “I best get back to the dormitory,” she said dismissively dropping his hand.

He said nothing and followed her to the carriages.

She doubted her friends would miss her very much or even notice that she was gone seeing as they were all probably preoccupied with their dates.

“Thanks,” She thanked him as she got ready to climb on the enchanted carriage.

“Elowen,” A familiar voice called. “There you are,” Ellar stepped in. He looked ill. His face pale and eyes dark as he brushed his messy hair out of his face. “Let’s dance,” he said gripping her arm pulling it so hard she almost tripped on her feet.

Oh, _now_ he wanted to dance.   
  
“No,” She dug her heels on the ground. “I didn’t come here with _you,”_ She pulled away from him bracing her arm.

“Come on Elowen, you know you want to,” he insisted once again reaching for her. “I said no!” Hesitantly she stood her ground against the boy of her dreams. 

“Didn’t you hear? she said no,” Draco butted standing next to her. She looked at him with pure shock not expecting him to _ever_ meddle in her affairs and less in such a protective manner.

“Thanks for entertaining my girl mate,” Ellar said lazily. Flashing Malfoy one of his shit-eating grins.

_His_ girl? She looked stunned by his words.  
What had changed in the past hour or so that had made him go from rejecting her twice to him claiming her as _his_ girl?   
This… didn’t make any sense.

“Two things you should know you rat-faced git. One, I don’t entertain. Two, not your girl,” He glowered stepping in between them protectively.

“Ahhh,” Ellar cooed out sardonically.

“You’re high Ellar. Go sit down,” Nel rounded around Malfoy and shot the Beuxbaton student a mean look.

_“Does she know?”_ He furrowed his eyebrows looking at Malfoy with a taunting smile.

_“Does she know?”_ Draco shot the question back with the same nasty look a mean glint in his eyes as he insulated to something hidden in Ellar’s past.

Before either of the Slytherins could react, Ellar swung forward striking Malfoy in the face. His sapphire rings breaking his skin making him bleed. Draco staggered backwards falling. Lestrange glowered at Malfoy with a triumphant smile and without a moment took the girl’s hand in his.   
Malfoy looked up from the polished floor and covered his bleeding nose. His stomach churning with nausea at the sight of the Frenchman placing a hand on her body. He looked away when he saw her place her arms on his shoulders.

Malfoy wasn’t sure what foul spew of curses she said to him before she rolled all her inhibitions off her shoulders and head butted his face. Kneeling over to cover his nose she kneed him in the crotch before brutally pushing him to the floor making several students nearby shout and gawk in horror. The professors much to distracted with the unraveling chaos of intoxicated students and disputing couples.

She had no doubt his mother would hear about this, but Cloelia wasn’t at Hogwarts to torture her. Her punishment would have to wait until the summer. Without another word she took Malfoy’s hand, and both went inside of the carriage.

“You should see the other guy,” Draco laughed weakly. “Wait until my father hears about this,” He spoke in a feeble tone, dreading what his father would say about the little stunt he had just pulled. He knew they would be bitterly received with shame.

“Let me see,” She grimaced looking at his swollen nose and open skin. His nose definitely broken. She had to give it to Ellar for someone so lean he had a nasty hook. “Don’t move,” She warned pulling something out of her dress’s cleavage.

“I thought I felt something,” He said in a nasal tone. “You were feeling for something?” She asked in a warning tone. Another witty jab and she would give him something to moan about.

“Episkey,” She casted without warning the spell that his own mother had once used with her. His nose automatically snapped back into place. Casting the cleaning spell, the blood magically vanished from his clothes.

“Good as new,” She whispered with a heavy sigh and lowered her wand.

“You didn’t have to-“ She gaped sitting next to him in the carriage. “Why- _why_ would you do that?” She asked still in disbelief he had taken a stand for her.

“You called me a coward,” He stated sorely shooting her a doleful look.

She looked at him with sad eyes wanting to take back her bitter words yet being unable to do so. His expression mirrored hers.

“I won’t take it back,” She uttered in a half whisper. “That’s what you are!” Her voice shifted to a much harsher tone. Despite not being the insulted one she felt wounded by her own words. She withdrew from him turning away. Distraught she barely felt his hand on her face turning her face towards his.

“Would a coward do this?” His voice dropped an octave. Eyes closing halfway as he leaned forward. Heart hammering in her chest she didn’t move, she couldn’t find the strength to.

_“Ten points from Slyt-“_ Snape stopped himself halfway through his sentence never having and never taking points off his own house.

Draco and Nel jumped as far away from each other as they could. Her face was bright red and his mortified one was buried in his hands. He looked more frustrated than anything and the professor who had so brassily interrupted them looked at them with an unreadable expression.

It seemed like Snape despised the Yule Ball so much he took pleasure in disturbing teenagers who were canoodling and taking away points from their houses as punishment. 

“I don’t want to hear it,” He spat out avoiding their eyes and strongly pronouncing each syllable as the words drawled out from his mouth.   
“Out. Malfoy. Saintday,” He shot them a warning look.

* * *

Back at the Yule Ball. Ellar was looking at his reflection in the restroom’s mirror. That had been a nasty move Elowen had pulled on him.   
Of course, he had heard about her ill reputation at Hogwarts, but he never actually believed she would dare strike him.

Especially considering how infatuated she was with him.  
  
A sadistic thought entered his mind as he thought of the vile things, he would do to her to get even.

Freshening his bruised face with cool water he could hear a clock tower striking midnight in the distance.

The sink began to tremble under his grip. Looking down he released it only for it to rattle wildly the porcelain and metal hitting each other repeatedly. It wasn’t just this one, it was all of them. He gave a step back eyes darting up and down from the mirrors and the sink.

He looked around at the urinals and toilets behind him that were still for a moment. Not a noise could be heard.

And then the geysers came.

Violent fountains of aggressive sewer water pulsing from plumbing that hit his face and flooded the bathroom.

* * *

Both Slytherins skulked back to the Common Room both too nervous and awkward to say anything.

“The ball, it was nice,” Draco broke the silence between them.   
“Yeah,” She agreed in a sheepish tone running a nervous hand through her dark hair.

“My family hosts one every Christmas. You should come to the next one,” he genuinely invited.

“That’d be nice,” she responded not sincerely but because it felt like the polite thing to say. She doubted that he would even remember by next Christmas. The thought of being with his creepy father, overbearing mother and the crème the la crème of Pureblood society sounded like a weekend with Satan and associates in the warmth comfort of hell. 

“You’ll have plenty of time to work on your dancing so maybe next time I’ll still be able to feel my toes afterwards.”

She elbowed him and flashed him a cross look. He smiled at her playfully but stopped when she stretched out a hand and pulled him against the dungeon’s stone wall.

“Did you hear that?” She asked narrowing her eyes at the strange noises she was hearing. Creeping through the corner of the wall she peered over and encountered a most disgusting sight.

Her jaw dropped at what she was seeing. “They’ve must’ve had the pumpkin pastries,” She thought bringing a hand to her mouth to cover her sniggering.

Pansy Parkinson and Vincent Crabbe were aggressively snogging outside of the Slytherin Common Room. Her hands were draped around his neck and he held her tiny body against his much larger one.

“I bet it’s the best night of their lives,” she said almost in horrific awe.

Draco had been silent all this time. He was much more preoccupied keeping his glazed eyes focused on the girl that was holding him close and onto his arm tightly. Perplexed by his silent expecting at least one snide comment or two she turned to face him, and her nose hit his when she turned.   
She hadn’t realized he had been standing so close. She held her breath and let go of his lower arm swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat.

Why was he looking at her like that? She knew that he had been drinking the spiked punch. So, had she- but his pupils were so full blown and dilated they almost looked black. It was that same look she had seen in the eyes of the unsuspecting guests that had consumed the pastries. _That_ would explain a lot.

“You had one of them too. Didn’t you?” She asked referring to the pastries.  
  
“No,” He responded in the same low voice slowly leaning forward. She could smell the punch on his breath. She shrunk against the wall and her eyes darted to the entrance of the Common Room seeking for an escape. Noticing this he stretched out an arm caging her in place.

“I think you’re drunk Draco. I spiked the punch and the pastries and-,” He shut her mouth holding her jaw making in place her grow silent.

Daphne’s voice was screaming things she should have known, things she had been denying to herself for what felt like her whole lifetime. Her heart was beating so fast she was afraid it would give. She saw him lower his head and she shut her eyes tightly almost as if it would hurt - but it didn’t.

He pressed his mouth against her forehead for a second that felt like an eternity to her.

Face burning hot, heart stuck in her throat, somehow-   
Somehow, this was even worse than whatever it was she thought he was going to do.

Whatever this was – whatever the two of them felt could no longer be ignored. They had passed the point of being able to shoot snide comments, hexes, or straight up flashing mean mugs at the other.   
The intimacy the two shared could no longer be denied.

Nel couldn’t manage a word from the overwhelming emotion.   
  
“I have to go!” She ducked under his arm stammering rushing into the Common Room before he could witness the vulnerable expression on her face. She dodged past Parkinson and Crabbe running in as quickly as she could without tripping on her dress leaving Draco outside to pull at his blond hair in frustration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Phew! Sorry it took me so long to post. ((I haven’t forgotten about you I promise, but I did just get a new job so it might take me a little longer to post) Congrats to me.)


	25. Chapter 25

Argus Filch, the school’s caretaker, shook his head wearing a large frown as he mopped the corridor in front of the Great Hall. Next to him, also mopping, with her head lowered in humiliation as students passed by and sniggered, was Pansy Parkinson bearing the unjust punishment for something she didn’t do.

“Little harsh?” Tracey whispered to her friend as the three Slytherins walked by. “Harsh. But well deserved,” Theodore said with an apathetic ‘hn’ at the end. “Hope she learns her lesson,” Elowen flashed a sweet smile in Pansy’s direction before walking into the Great Hall.

After the Yule Ball catastrophe - All the fighting couples, the intoxicated ill students and the flooded bathrooms – people started pointing fingers and the castle was combed for somebody to blame.

It just so happened that when searching the castle, they found several bottles of Spyrit and the ingredients to make a love potion under Pansy’s bed. Which made her look pretty suspicious to Dumbledore and McGonagall. _Who would’ve thought Pansy could do such a thing?_  
Despite how much she denied it and how much she wailed and cried claiming that she was innocent the Headmaster didn’t buy it. Nel had a feeling that Snape knew, but he did nothing about it, instead Pansy was punished. Her detention for the rest of the year having to assist Mr. Filch with his caretaking duties around the castle; everything ranging from mopping floors, cleaning bathrooms, polishing mirrors and even venturing out into the Forbidden Forest at night.

Entering the Great Hall, the three almost ran into Malfoy. He looked pale and had a panicked look on his face. Tracey narrowed her eyes ready for him to spit out a nasty insult but instead he avoided their gazes. He mumbled an uncharacteristic sorry. The tension he carried with him palpable. Without another gesture he side stepped around them and left.

“What-“ Theodore looked over his shoulder incredibly confused. “Was _that_ all about?” He asked with an intrigued expression before he turned back to look at his friends.

“What was what?” Nel gave a blank stared that seemed to successfully fool him. However, the way her gaze avoided his eyes and ears turned a little redder did not go amiss to him.

It wasn’t the first time he had witnessed the peculiar interaction between the two. Ever since the Yule Ball something had been off. No petty pranks of insults were exchanged between the two. In fact, it seemed like the two went out of their way to avoid each other almost as if they were walking on thin ice.

_Even earlier today during transfigurations class the students had been asked to pick out a top hat to practice transfiguring it into a rabbit. Both Slytherins just happened to reach for the same one at the same time as a group crowded by the shelf where all the top hats were neatly stacked._

_“You take it,” Nel was quick to drop the hat.  
“You should take it,” Draco insisted raising the hat in her direction. _

_“Um...” She stammered nervously before reaching for a more ragged and dustier one and returning to her seat leaving the teen standing with the hat in hand._

“I forgot something,” Theodore lied as he turned away from his friends. “I’ll be back,” he said swiftly before following after the suspicious acting blond Slytherin. 

Neither girl thought much about it and they proceeded to take a seat on their House table, Daphne soon joining them confused about Theodore’s absence.

* * *

Returning to the Slytherin dormitory after dinner the girls were conversing about their winter holidays and the Second Task of the Triwizard tournament which would be coming up in two weeks.

This was troubling since Nel and Cedric hadn’t had a breakthrough on the Second Task and from the looks of it neither had Viktor or Harry. The two suspected the task would take place in the Black Lake and that had been about it. A generous tip from Nathair.

Walking in the trio saw a circular crowd of Slytherin girls gathered around a table ogling at something. Theodore and Malfoy were sitting on the side of the Common Room sitting on two sofa chairs with an ignored game of chess between them. The two seemed to be in a rushed and upsetting conversation unaidable to anybody else in the room.

“There you are!” The Slytherin prefect said turning to look at Nel and her friends with large eyes and a gleeful smile.

“Somebody left these for you, they have your name,” She said signaling to the orphan and nodding her towards the circle. The circle of females parted to reveal a massive bouquet of colorful flower buds. The prefect handed her a sealed note that had her name scribbled on it. Looking at it curiously – the bouquet was half her size. Leaning over she reached for one of the flowers but pricked her finger with a thorn.

“Ow,” She sucked in her breath and brough her bleeding finger to her mouth. The moment she pricked her finger the bouquet of buds began opening in a vibrant bloom before her eyes becoming a pleasing array of burgundy roses, cyclamen, yellow carnations and maroon dahlias.

The girl’s around her cooed and awed gushing at the elaborate arrangement none ever seeing something to elegant before. “They’re beautiful!” One of the girls said.   
  
Pansy who was standing around with her arms crossed over her chest eyed the flowers with disdain. “I bet she sent them to herself,” she scoffed bitterly.

“Who sent them? Who sent them?” Some of the girls elbowed the Slytherin and attempted to peer over her shoulder to take a look at the contents of the note.

_‘Meet me at the boathouse after dinner.’_

“It doesn’t say,” She answered tucking the note inside of her pocket. Looking up, Nel spotted Theodore and Draco starring from the edge of the common room both looked just as surprised as she was at the gesture.

“Wait. What did it say?” Daphne asked trying to reach for the note which was now out of sight.   
  
“You look- _disappointed_ ,” Millicent pointed as she looked at the elegant bouquet with a dreamy expression.   
  
It was true. Her expression had shifted into a serious one as her lips were drawn in an unsmiling thin line as she didn’t seem the slightest bit elated by the expensive arrangement.  
  
“I’ll be back,” The girl responded ominously before walking out, pausing and giving Draco and Theodore one last look before exiting.

It was dark and quiet in the boathouse. She hugged her arms as she attempted to keep herself warm from the bitter winter cold, her breath visible in white clouds as she hugged her coat closer. Having been waiting for some time she again pulled out the note from her pocket and re-read it. She was at the right place at the right time.

Hearing footsteps making the dock’s wood planks creak she quickly turned to face the individual who had sent the flowers. 

Perhaps she was at the right place and at the right time, but it was the wrong guy.

“You,” She drawled out upset ready to return to the castle.

“Elowen,” A thin hand grabbed her arm tightly. “Wait…” Ellar said holding her back. She stopped and looked down at his hand with a cross expression. “Get your hand off me!” She whipped her arm back to her person.

“Please,” He pleaded in a lazy tone. “Hear me out.”

“No,” She reached for the note he had written, wrinkled it and tossed it at his feet. “You played me. You had no interest in actually taking me to the Yule Ball, did you?”

“Elowen,” He shook his head and ran a hand though his curly hair. “I did, I swear, but everything that happened with Diggory and then-“ She began walking away not wanting to listen to his lies for another minute. Nel couldn’t believe she had at one point been so infatuated with this lying prick.

“I won’t waste another moment listening to your lies.”  
  
Again, he stopped her by reaching for her upper arm and gripping onto her dark gray coat.

“You didn’t even want to dance with me. And then-“ She remembered what she had caught him doing in the restroom. “There’s that filthy habit.”  
She didn’t know much about the effects of snorting dragonpuff all she knew was that it was similar to muggle cocaine, except worse.

“Oh? So that’s what this is about?” He stepped forward forcefully taking her hands as he stepped forward with a dancing step. She stepped backwards pulling on her hands as they turned in the chilly boathouse next to the black water which mirrored the starry sky above.

“We’re dancing now. Happy?” He said dryly without compassion.

“No,” She again tried to snake out of his grip or reach for her wand. “I’m not happy.”

“What keeps you unhappy?”

“You.” She scoffed at him. “ _This._ Everything you did at the ball.” She eyed him warily waiting to get socked in the face like he had done to Malfoy the night of the Yule Ball.  
  
“I’m sorry you feel that way.”

After years of living at Wool’s and existing under Cordelia Wool’s thumb Nel had learned a terribly important lesson about dealing with manipulative monsters. Ellar wasn’t sorry. He wasn’t apologizing. Instead he was antagonizing her for her emotions. _‘I’m sorry,’_ would’ve been acceptable _not_ ‘I’m sorry _you_ feel that way.’

Feeling an angry fever coming in with gritted teeth she pushed at his body as he forced her to dance with him. His grip on her gaunt hand was so tight she was certain her skin would eventually blemish into a dark bruise.

“What do you want from me? What made you change your mind? You ignore me the entire dance, maybe the whole school year and then you _suddenly_ change your mind?” She marveled at his ridiculous personality change. She had thought long and hard about what his motives could be but couldn’t think of one. His mother didn’t have a problem casting the Imperio curse on her and stealing her body from her. What else could he possibly want?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Liar!” She pushed with anger baring her teeth.   
“Elowen, I sincerely have no idea what you are referring to-“ He continued spewing his lie.  
“Liar. Let me go! You gaslighting, no good, son of a-“ She fought hard against him managing to whip her wand out. Criminally, he stole her first kiss right then and there.

It wasn’t like anything she had imagined. Like anything she had hoped for or like in the movies. No matter how many nights she had stayed up dreaming about kissing Ellar Lestrange in her dreams his lips were softer, they didn’t hurt or crash against her teeth. She imagined it would’ve been a warm feeling not one that left her feeling so void and empty afterwards.

She bit him and mustering all of her physical strength shoved him away from her. The momentum was so much she staggered backwards heel catching on the edge of the dock and falling back into the Black Lake’s ice-cold water.

She sank into the lake her body numb to the cold. Unable to think, act or breathe. The bitter chill seizing control for a moment before a jolt of adrenaline allowed her to kick towards the surface.

Ellar’s hand was reaching down the dock to help her up. She reached for it. “Help!” She cried out spitting out a mouthful of water. Her soaked coat, uniform and scarf weighting down on her shoulders. She reached for his hand, instead her head was once again pushed beneath the water.

Ellar Lestrange’s nails dug into her scalp as he held her head down underwater. Water went inside of her mouth as she gasped for air and desperately clawed at his hand leaving red scratch marks.   
She couldn’t hear what he was saying to her, she couldn’t see, she couldn’t think. Her lungs ached from lack of breath. Heartbeat strong. Her legs growing weak from the weight as she fought and persisted kicking.

“-Go mad,” She distinguished as she caught a part of what he was seeing. “I want to see you _go mad.”_

There was a crazed look on his dark eyes as he knelt over the dock and drowned the girl. He kept on murmuring something to himself as he kept his eyes peeled on the dark bobbing head and the rising bubbles in the water. Water went inside her mouth and she choked on the soul tasting water.

Then Nel didn’t feel a weight pushing her head down and managed to claw at the mossy edge of the wooden board and rise up bringing her shoulders to the dock. She violently coughed the water she had swallowed and pulled her body up harshly breathing through trembling cloudy breaths. Her eyes shot open and she raised her wand ready to curse Ellar. She could see his dark leather shoes. Instead a pair of arms reached down and pulled her out of the water.

“Stupid girl,” Snape’s nasal voice could never fool her as he dragged her out of the water like a soaking wet mop. Safe on the boat house’s wooden dock she sat up still heaving leaning her weight on her elbows. Chest aching, throat feeling like barbwire, teeth chattering, body shivering unpleasantly.

Snape pointed his wand at her and did a complicated wave that made hot air stream out of the tip. Her coat and robes began to steam into a pleasantly warm vapor as they dried out.

“Where-Where did he go?” She looked around the empty boathouse with fearful eyes. The sound of distant splashing in the darkness of the Black Lake gave her a feeling that Ellar was a distance away and alone in the lake.

“Coming to the lake with him,” Snape ignored her question and scolded roughly dragging her up to her feet by the arm. Once up he gripped the back of her neck and forced her head down as he led her up the steep stairs of the cliffs that lead to the castle.

“You stupid, imprudent, senseless girl-“ He scolded gruffly.

“Professor Snape-“ She winced at his rough grip her neck straining some strands of wet hair sticking to her forehead. “How did you even find me?”

“Mind your luck I was rounding the perimeter of the sacred Black Lake and witnessed Rabastan Lestrange’s progeny descending down these steps-“ His mouth moved fast as he spoke in a rapid tone she had stopped listening halfway as they descended down the stairs of the dungeon and into his office, he pulled her in by her upper arm now slamming the door behind him.

She turned looking at him with her eyes wide as he let her go and rounded around his desk.

“Why were you down at the Black Lake, Professor?”

“Ministry of Magic business,” He responded curtly sucking in a deep breath.

She remembered what Nathair had said about seeing the Ministry of Magic walking the perimeter of the Black Lake. No doubt her assumption that the Second Task of the tournament would take place there. That was some news Cedric would be happy about.

“What happened to him? What did you do?” She asked frightfully. “We need to tell the Headmaster!” She scattered heart still hammering in her chest from the fearful experience.

He had just tried to kill her. What could she do? What would she do? Could she successfully execute a vengeful plan against him and get away with it? Probably not knowing that his mother was her absolute guardian and would probably do something just as terrible to her. However, would it be worth it? She had after all already physically wounded him once.

“Silence!” Snape snapped shushing her.

She had nothing to lose. She could do it. Make him pay. Just like she had made Pansy pay and all the others before. Ellar was the type of person that didn’t deserve her care or empathy. People – men like him weren’t worth it.

“Mr. Lestrange is enjoying a pleasant midnight swim with the grindylows. I’m sure the giant squid and the lake’s merpeople will keep him company,” he said sardonically.

“Are you going to do anything?” She looked at him with an incredulous expression. Almost a hopeful one. He had almost killed her for Salazar’s sake. Her expression faltered into a wounded one after a moment. Did Snape even care enough to do something about it?

“No,” He spoke after a moment of silence.

Again, Snape had proven she couldn’t trust him. He didn’t care enough. He wouldn’t move a finger to even try and get the bastard expelled from Beauxbatons.

“He was trying to kill me!” She shouted angry. “I couldn’t breath- I could’ve drowned! Do you know how much water I swallowed?! Do you even –“

With a flick of his wand she was silent. Her lips continued rapidly moving as she rambled and kicked the chair in front of his desk before turning and slapping a hand on his desk. She unmuted herself with a charm.

“As much as you enjoy the sound of your own voice Saintday I will ask you to be quiet and _listen.”_

_“He could’ve killed me!”  
  
_ “He didn’t,” Snape silenced her his voice sharp as he leaned over his desk.

He wouldn’t have. Snape was more than certain that the Lestranges had strict orders not to physically harm The Girl Who Died. The consequences would be dire if she was wounded. He gave her a hard look as if pondering his words carefully measuring just what he would say to her, just like he had at the beginning of the year.

“It wouldn’t be the first time Ellar Lestrange was involved in an _accident_ on schoolgrounds. His reeking privilege has saved him from rotting in the cells of Azkaban once already,” Snape trailed up as he brought a pensive hand to his chin.

Again, Ellar wouldn’t have killed her. The consequences for him and his family would be dire if the Dark Lord’s plans were soiled.

She was about to ask what he meant but he instead continued to speak.

“Sit,” He commanded. Keeping her eyes on him she dropped to the chair before his desk. “What I am about to tell you is of imperative importance and I expect you to _listen_ and most importantly _obey_.”  
  


She said nothing in response and listened attentively.

“And no- you are not allowed to question _why_.” He added snidely.

Again, she remained still keeping her ears open.

“Stay away from Ellar Lestrange.”


	26. Chapter 26

Did Professor Snape actually think she was stupid?

_Probably._  
  
Ellar Lestrange had tried to kill her. How- _why_ on Earth would she ever considering being around him ever again?   
  
An unpleasant chill went down her spine at the thought of being around him. She thought of the crazed look on his eyes as he attempted to drown her, his rough grip on her body, his cold lips.   
  
Consider it done Snape.

It wouldn’t happen again.   
  


However, the thought of getting even – the need to make him feel just as small as he had made her feel – the thought was more than tempting, but how could she hurt him? As far as she knew it didn’t look like Ellar had a weakness. She tried to empathize with him, to think of his intentions and have the benefit of the doubt yet couldn’t reach a conclusion.

_‘Mr. Lupin,  
  
I apologize it has taken so long for me to write to you back. I hope the gloves I sent you fit you well. I’m not the most skilled knitter so I have enchanted them with a charm that should keep your hands warm (it is still a work in progress, so I hope the charm sticks)._

_Hogwarts has been well Hogwarts. I’m happy to be home. Work has been keeping me busy. I have a lot to make up to from last year and every year I get more and more clients. It can get exhausting, but work is work and I shouldn’t complain._

_The Yule Ball was fine-‘_

_It wasn’t._ The Yule Ball was a complete catastrophe. Not just for Nel but for almost every student that attended.

_‘-I went stag. Found a dress from the ‘Come and Go Room.’ Did you know Hogwarts has a secret room?  
  
My friends are-‘_

_  
_She looked up from her scribbling to see Daphne and Theodore playing and holding with each other’s hands in the middle of the Slytherin table. Both of them completely lost in each other’s eyes. Some Durmstrang students glared at them with revulsion at the romantic public display of attention. Nel almost threw up. To think she wanted that to be her and Ellar Lestrange only a couple of weeks ago. Leanne who was sitting next to Tracey in the Slytherin table was showing her the latest photographs she had captured of the Whomping Willow shaking off some snow. Both were also completely absorbed with each other leaving Nel to constantly feel lonely or like a _fifth wheel._

When they asked why she had returned to the dormitory with parts of her clothes soaking wet she lied and said it had been a prank by the Weasley twins. When asked who had been the one behind the anonymous flower arrangement, she, again, lied and said the person never showed.

“Was it Ellar?” Daphne had asked leaning over her bed, eyes wide in astonishment.

“No,” Nel said dully. “Why would _he_ send me flowers?” She rolled her eyes dramatically. Another lie. None of them questioned it. Specially after the showdown that went on in the Yule Ball.

Of course, all of them were too engrossed with each other to noticed how she had begun to avoid the Black Lake. How she began to make excuses not to run around it in the mornings with Tracey and Viktor, how she starred at the green tinted windows in the Common Room it with unease, nails burying into skin leaving half-moon crescents in her palms, or how her breathing would become irregular when in the presence of a large body of water or even the mentioning of the lake.

She tried to compartmentalize. To push the memory to the back of her head. To ignore the painful memory of your lungs screaming and burning for air. The dark coldness of the underwater and the crazed look on that maniac’s face.

If you’re lying to your friends, you are doing something wrong.   
  
However, she felt like they wouldn’t understand. If they knew- if _any_ of them knew it would only complicate things. If Snape, a Hogwarts professor, wasn’t able to do anything what help could her friends be? It didn’t seem like Ellar had a weakness. Even Professor Snape had said it himself, his reeking privileged had saved him from Azkaban once before.   
They might give him a piece of their minds but that would be about it.

In regards of her other friends- Harry was too impulsive, so were the Weasley’s- even talking about it- it would just be problematic. Even Nathair was absent since he was hibernating the cold winter somewhere inside the greenhouse.

Then again, these weren’t things they talked with each other.   
The less they knew about each other the better.

She wanted to talk to somebody who wouldn’t be biased to judge, someone who would just listen-

Her eyes left the letter she was writing and slowly wondered a couple of seats away to Draco who was pointing at something in a magazine Zabini was showing him, no surprise probably roasting someone. He was a good listener; he was good at this kind of thing.

“Why is Saintday starring at me?” Blaise narcissistically asked Draco when he felt a pair of eyes on him. “Think she’ll ask me to Puddifoot’s?” He laughed in reference to the pink Tea Shop were students usually went on dinner dates at Hogsmeade. She turned away quickly when Malfoy turned in her direction. Her mind went to that same place it had the night after the Yule Ball. The grip around her pen became a little tighter when she felt her face burning from the embarrassment of the memory.

‘ _My friends are great.’_

She dotted that statement harshly.

_‘I haven’t been practicing my Patronus charm as much as I should be. Other than that, professor, I was wondering,_ ’ She wanted to scratch off the word professor. It was a force of habit to call him that. _‘Have you ever heard of Ellar Lestrange? He used to be a student at Hogwarts.’  
  
_ He’s also a real foul git.

_‘Other than that – I hope you are well professor. Hopefully by the next time we meet my Patronus will be fully functional._

_Take care,  
  
\- Nel’_

Looking over her shoulder she fed a piece of sausage to her owl which had been loyally perched on her shoulder all this time and handed it two sealed letters. One for Lupin and another for Cedric who was just a couple of tables away.

_‘Meet me outside in 5.’_   
The note read.

Cedric read it and their eyes met from across the Great Hall. Looking up he nodded with a lazy smile and made his way outside.

“Where are you going?” Tracey asked when she saw her friend rise without saying a word.

“Common Room,” She half lied. “See ya,” She said curtly.

“Nel you’ve been acting very wei-“ Tracey didn’t get to finish her sentence, her friend leaving her hanging. “Weird,” She dead panned and turned to give Leanne an irritated look. “I think she’s just upset about the Yule Ball,” the Hufflepuff suggested.

“I mean something did happen with Lestrange, right? People say she went mad and struck him, then he sent her flowers- you’d think she’d be elated. Didn’t you say she fancied him?” Moon added to the group of Slytherins. Daphne pinched the bridge of her nose irritated at the missing puzzle piece.

She was missing something, but what was it?

“Ced,” Outside of the Great Hall, Nel greeted the older Hufflepuff as they walked down the corridor in no particular direction. “Ever heard of the ‘ _Come and Go Room?_ ’” She asked with particular interest.

Cedric looked a little confused by her question. “You mean the Room of Requirement?” He arched an eyebrow.

“The Room of what?” Her expression mimicked his.

“Come, I’ll show you,” He said turning in the direction of the moving staircases and leading her up. “Is this what you wanted to talk about?” He asked as they headed up the stairs to the seventh floor.

No. She wanted to tell him about what she knew about the lake. She wanted to tell him- someone about what had happened with Ellar Lestrange that night. About how his mother would most definitely kill her in cold blood for wounding the pride and joy that was her only son.   
  
She didn’t want to think of Cloelia rigidly sitting at home with her palms flat on the dining table as she plotted her vengeance against her. _“I want to see you go mad,”_ the Beuxbaton student’s cruel words still haunted her. The thought of the dark water-

“No,” She said quicker than she intended. Wanting to shut out the memory of the dark water. “It’s about the Second Task of the Tournament. I am more than certain it’s at the lake. Are you prepared to go underwater?”

“Underwater?” Cedric’s thick eyebrows burrowed deep in thought. “Yes. Unless you can grow gills, I have a feeling you’re going to need some help in that department.”

“How do you know this?” He asked curiously.

She could’ve confessed. Told her about what Ellar had done to her and how Professor Snape knew. How Snape had been there and had done nothing about it, but it brought so much shame to her. It had been her fault in the first place, for being there, for trusting Ellar, for putting herself in that situation. Besides- what would Cedric do about it? Nothing. Ellar was beyond privileged, it would come to his word against her and in the end his, being a Lestrange, weighted more. It weighted enough to get him off the hook from Azkaban.

“Never mind that,” He shrugged. “Anyhow-“ Cedric said as they entered the Seventh Floor. “Here it is,” he finished with confident as they stopped in front of a large empty wall across from a tapestry of Barnabas the Barny trying to teach trolls to dance ballet.

She was silent for a moment looking for the entrance to the Room of Requirement. The door must be really small, she squinted her eyes to try and see.

“But there’s no door,” Nel observed.

“One thing about Hogwarts is, nothing really is what it seems,” Cedric reached for her arm and pulled her along as he walked away. She was more than perplexed by the missing room.

“The Room of Requirements only reveals itself to those who require it,” He explained as the two walked in front of tapestry three times. It was then that he stopped a massive door with intricate swirling carvings then revealed itself to the two of them. It even seemed to slightly shimmer.  
  
“Tricky, aint it?” He said with his hands on his waist.

“How-How’d you?” She looked at him wide eyed with a broad smile.

“Walk in front of the tapestry three times while focusing on an intent. If you do it correctly the room and whatever you desire should appear.”

She made a mental note of this. “How do you know about it?” She looked at him oddly.

A coy grin grew across his face and he ran a hand through his neat copper hair. “Well,” He chuckled. “Prefects use it as a snogging room,” he said cheekily. He laughed at her stunned expression. “Why? Are you thinking of having some company over?”

She slapped his arm and looked away hoping he wouldn’t notice her flustered reaction.

“Knock yourself out,” He once again laughed. “That reminds me-“ He waved his finger. She noted he was stepping away from her. “I have an idea. Meet me outside the prefect’s bathroom in half an hour.”

“What?” She turned back to look at him with that same confused look she had been wearing on her face all evening long so far.

* * *

It would take hours- no _days._ To look through all of the vials, books, trunks, boxes and other magical trinkets that are all inside of the room. And who knew what Cedric meant when he said the room would shift into whatever its user required.

Elowen even lost track of her time and arrived outside the Prefect’s Bathroom later than expected. She waited outside but Cedric never showed. Maybe- she looked around the corridor shiftily hoping no other prefects or professors would be doing rounds tonight. Maybe he was already inside?

“Hello?” She croaked as she crept inside of the Prefect’s Bathroom. She was distracted looking up in awe at the animated mermaid stained glass windows and the massive organ like fountain that was pouring down a rainbow of water that descended into a bubbly lagoon that she didn’t even realize Cedric half underwater. Did people actually come and bathe in here?

“Took you long enough!” He laughed a little and swam towards the edge and reached for the golden egg he had received in the First Task.

Normally she would’ve had a clever retort at the tip of her tongue, but the sight of the dark water grounded her in place. He didn’t seem to notice her rattled reaction. Her eyes were frozen on the water. She knew it had a bottom. She knew Cedric wasn’t struggling. She knew she wouldn’t fall. She knew she wouldn’t drown, but the memories.

The vivid feeling of her lungs burning for air as salty lake water flooded her mouth and choked the air out of her suddenly came back to her.

“Well come on then,” he waved his hand over in his direction still wearing a cheery grin. She didn’t share his enthusiasm. “Welcome to the Prefect’s Bathroom. You’ll be able to use it next year. If you are chosen to become a prefect. I think you’d make a rather good one.”

The cold darkness that engulfed her beneath the lake still pricked at her with the sight of the dark water.

  
The fact Diggory was shirtless and in the water didn’t cross her mind, she didn’t snap out of her fearful trance until she heard a dreadfully familiar laugh.

“Is this the- _handsome_ boy – you brewed that foul-smelling Love Potion for?”

Moaning Myrtle.

_“Myrtle,”_ Nel dropped her name from her mouth with much nasal distaste. The ghost girl’s remarks cause her to snap out of her trance and drag her heavily grounded feet towards the pool.

“I would disagree,” She said woefully with a bit of an incredulous laugh answering his comment.

Nel? Prefect? Could you imagine the chaos and havoc? Students would be getting points for jinxing people on her shit list.  
  


“You brewed a Love Potion Nel?” Cedric laughed; his eyebrows arched in surprise. “Maybe the snogging room will come in handy!”

“The only snog Snelly Nelly is getting is from a Welsh troll,” Myrtle cackled and Nel wished she could toss something in her direction. Both ignored her.

“I am not getting in the water Cedric,” She warned kneeling on the edge.

“Are you sure?” He rested his elbows on the edge. “Waters nice,” He said splashing some warm water in her direction. She stiffened up petrified. Again, he chuckled slightly interpreting her response as a girlish nervousness.

“I was thinking-“ He pondered for a moment. “Since the task is underwater, what do you think would happen if I sink the egg underwater?”

* * *

“You have to come!” A week later Tracey was pulling on Nel’s hand as she insisted her friend came to attend the Second Task of the Triwizard tournament which would take place in the Black Lake.

“I’ve got a lot of work to do,” She lied shiftily nervously playing with her book bag’s strap. Never in this lifetime would she admit she was afraid and less to a room full of Slytherins. “Oh, come on,” Tracey insisted still pulling on her friend’s hand. “It’ll be fun! Leanne even got butterscotch popcorn for us!”

“Thanks Trace, but I’ll pass really,” Nel averted her eyes and kept them glued to the floor. She withdrew her hand from her friend’s coldly.

Tracey looked at her with a concerned expression. “You’ve been acting really odd lately,” She said with a hand on her waist.

“Odd?” Nel kept busy by tossing meaningless items inside of her bookbag. “Odd how?” She dodged the subject tossing in more parchments, ink, an extra quill and a pillow. Wait- she didn’t need a pillow. She put the item back in her bed and took in a deep breath her eyes moving from one end of the Slytherin dormitory to the other eventually focusing on Mildred’s cat.

“Nel,” Tracey said softly as she took a seat on the edge of her friend’s bed.

“You can talk to me – to us – your friends. About anything, really-“ She said tenderly her worried eyes still lingering on her roommate.

“There is _nothing_ going on!” She snapped in return. She didn’t even realize she had raised her voice. “Nothing Trace! Stop being so damn bloody nosey!” She shut her book bag before standing up and storming out of the room. Tracey sat stunned at the volatile reaction.

Halting by the door, Nel rested a hand on the door frame. “Trace- I’m…” She turned with her head lowered. “I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have snapped. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that,” She hesitated before walking back to the bed. “I’m sorry,” She pinched the bridge of her nose and Tracey suspected she was wiping away tears that dared prick at the inner corners of her eyes.

She sat in the bed next to her and Tracey took her hand in hers patting it sadly.

“Who do I have to kill?” Tracey laughed slightly which in turn made Nel break into a smile. “Was it Malfoy?” This time she spoke in full seriousness. 

Feeling drained Nel held her breath. “Draco?” She shook her head and put her head on her friend’s shoulder before sighing deeply. “No, not this time.”

“Draco?” Tracey was in turn more than surprised at her casual use of his name. “That’s new,” Tracey huffed slightly before nudging her shoulder up.   
  
She was about to further press on the topic when Pansy Parkinson walked into the dormitory. “Forgot my binoculars,” She tossed over her shoulder not paying the two Slytherins much attention.

  
“By the way my money’s on Potter,” She added with pomp before walking out.

“ _’On Potter?’_ ” Nel repeated still with her head comfortably resting on Tracey’s shoulder. How odd for Pansy to be rooting for Harry in anything. “Interesting choice,” was all she commented.

“They’re not betting on winners,” Tracey said with an exhausting sight. “They’re betting on who’s drowning first.”

Like that Nel’s head jolted up as she sat extremely straight and looked at Tracey with a horrified expression. “What?” She gaped.

Tracey couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s reaction. “Calm down,” She said through small laughs as she attempted to comfort her friend. “Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic will be there, there’s no reason why anything could go wrong.”

The thought of Harry or Cedric or Viktor or even Fleur de la Couer whom Nel had never exchanged a word with drowning made Nel want to retch. She pictured the horrifying image of pale body floating in the contrasting waters of the Black Lake. She paled at the thought and felt her stomach twist uneasily. There it was again that tight sensation in her throat.

“I’ll catch up,” She croaked after a moment. Tracey hugged her and promised they would save her a seat since Daphne and Theodore were probably already there waiting for them in the audience bleachers.

* * *

The day was freezing. Air was cold as strong gusts of wind blew through the eager crowds which sat on the bleachers in a makeshift dock in the middle of the Black Lake. It was definitely not a good day to take a dip in the freezing waters.

The Ministry of Magic sat in the audience as a spectator, next to him sat Lucius Malfoy, on the same row was Albus Dumbledore, Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch.

In the row below Tracey looked around the crowd anxiously. She sat in defeat when she came to the realization her friend was nowhere to be found.

Lowering her binoculars Nel blew a hair out from her face in great frustration as she watched from a far. There was no way she was going to walk across a bridge and sit in a dock for who knows how many hours waiting for anybody to come up from the water. She was safe and sound witnessing the events from the edge of the lake actually standing on solid British soil.

A gun had been fired and the contestant had been underwater for some time now.

Sighing she once again picked up the binoculars and this time observed as the champions got ready to take a leap. She knew that Cedric would use a Bubble-Head Charm one that he had endlessly been practicing in the Prefect’s Bathroom. She helped him practice, convincing herself that it would be ideal to know, especially when in such a close proximity to a large body of water. She was curious as to what the other champions would use.

“What are you doing here?” A voice that ran a chill down her spine struck her.

She said nothing and stammer a little imagining how ridiculous she probably looked standing alone on the edge of the Black Lake witnessing everything from a far.

“You’re scared of the lake. Aren’t you?”

Irritated she again lowered her binoculars yet didn’t turn around, her gaze remained fixed on the end of the dock where the Second Task of the Triwizard tournament was happening.

“So perceptive of you,” She said dryly.

“Why?” She could hear the pebbles on the edge of the muddy lake crunching under his feet as he approached her side. His voice, it sounded like he had genuine concern. Yet with Malfoy it was hard to know if he was being sincere or not. “Are you here to make fun of me?”

He stood there for a moment “I’m not,” like Tracey’s earlier his voice was soft, unthreatening, he sunk his hands in his black jacket’s pockets shielding them from the bitter winds.

  
Her lips were tightly drawn into a line. She still didn’t want to look at him. Wasn’t his father in the audience? Why was he here with her?

Unsure of what to say she was silent for a moment. 

“You were right,” She decided to break that silence. She hadn’t even realized she was biting her lip, nodding her head slightly with a distant look of disdain in her eyes. He looked at her with curiosity.

“Lestrange,” She thought of the perfect way to describe him. “He’s a monster.”

  
She didn’t notice how his expression hardened when he registered the apathetic look in her eyes. That son of a bitch. He wondered just what was going through her head. His eyes looked for any trace of injury on her exposed skin, but it was hard to see beneath the gloves, scarf, knitted cap and all winter gear.

“Seems to be quite fixed on you as of the late. Sending you flowers and all.”

“How?” She finally turned to face him. How was it that he _always_ seemed to know?

“The Weasleys can barely afford to breathe, Potter is too daft to send something so elaborate. It has to be someone with a strong intent that can afford such an unimaginative gesture,” He looked at her with full seriousness.   
  
“Alright Sherlock,” She rolled her eyes wearing a half smile before once again focusing on the tournament through her binoculars which were strapped around her neck.

“What did you call me?” He asked sounding offended by the unknown word. 

“Muggle reference,” She added wearing that same coy smile. The moment was short lived. The smile wiped from her features as there seemed to be some action in the tournament.

“I think Krum is coming up-“ She described. “Is that? With Granger?” She squinted through the glass making sure she was seeing correctly. “You’re missing the task,” She said to Malfoy hoping he’d go away and return to his father’s eyes to witness the tournament.  
Instead he said nothing and took the binoculars from her and she was tugged to his side by the short strap that was around her neck. He didn’t apologize for standing so close to her, nor did he seem to care.

She could smell his strong cologne. Could see the beauty marks and freckles on his pale skin.

She didn’t mean for it to happen, but her heart picked up pace. This time there was no alcohol involved. She stood on her tip toes hoping to keep a distance between the two. Struggling to keep her balance standing over the slippery pebbles. Slipping she braced onto his arm to hold herself up. “Sorry,” She mumbled ducking her head.

“Fancy a swim Elowen?” A voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard interrupted. Ellar stood a couple of feet away from them about to cross the bridge which lead to the makeshift island were audiences were viewing the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He wore a smug smile as he hid his hands in his coat’s pockets.

Malfoy glared at the Beuxbaton student with hatred.

“Cowering behind Malfoy. How typical,” The other shot. Nel didn’t even realize she was hiding behind Malfoy, or maybe he had pushed her behind him. Did it really matter? Triggered she stepped forward and whipped her wand ready to hex him. Yet her hand was held back. Draco gave her a knowing look. He knew when to pick his fights. She didn’t.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Lestrange raised his hands up mockingly. “Might want to put a leash around her Malfoy. I heard she bites,” Ellar bit down on the edge of his lip with a wink before haughtily walking away with his head tossed back as he retreated. His loud laugher a faraway echo from the windy spot where Draco and Nel were standing.

Nel kept her head lowered not wanting to think about what had happened with Ellar. After all it had all been her fault.

“Nel,” She felt a rough hand on her shoulder turn her. “What did he do?”

Sullenly she simply shook her head in small movements. “What did he do to you?” He repeated his tone stronger, grip on her arm tighter.   
  
“Nothing,” She lied dismissively , like she had rehearsed a thousand times.   
  
“Tell me,” He ordered.  
  
“He forced himself on me,” word vomit. She hadn’t even realized she’d said it. “Kissed me,” She paused. “And then tried to drown me in the Black Lake,” She admitted not wanting to look at his judging eyes. She waited for him to blame her just like she blamed herself from the shame of it.   
  
“Son of a bitch.”   
  


Draco wasn’t looking at her he instead marched in Ellar’s direction beginning to cross the wood bridge. Lifting his wand dishonorably hexing the teen with his back turned; Lestrange was propelled high into the sky and across nastily splashing into the lake’s water. His father, the audience and everybody else would’ve been way to distracted by one of the champions emerging from the water to even realize what he had done.  
  
“And coming up!” Ludo spoke as he continued to narrate the events of the tournament to the audience.

Nel watched with her mouth ajar again bringing the binoculars to her mouth as Ellar spat out some cold water and rise up in the tournament.   
  
“Is that a student? Somebody get that fanatic out of the winter waters!”

Students in the audience pointed and laughed.

Wearing a triumphant and very satisfied smile Draco flipped his wand in his hand before turning to face Nel. Lowering her binoculars, she rubbed her eyes and buried her face in the palms of her hands.

“Nel?” He called her name quickly approaching her. Again, she could hear the pebbles shifting under his steps. “Are you crying?” He asked sounding more blatantly surprised than concerned this time.

“No,” She removed her hands and wore a broad smile she attempted to hide behind her knuckles.

Satisfied Draco looked back at the audience from a far. He let out a laugh when he saw the way Lestrange was pitifully fished out of the freezing cold water by a Beuxbaton Professor. People laughed at him as they did.

  
“What a tosser,” Draco grumbled with great distaste.  
  
Still hiding her shy smile, the girl admired his face profile from the side. He completely missed the large doe eyes she was looking at him with.  
  
“Worse than mudbloods I tell you.”  
  
And… Just like that it was gone.


	27. Chapter 27

“And then? What happened?”

“Nothing,” The girl shrugged her shoulders as she sat on the floor of the greenhouse surrounded by growing vines leaning her back on a wooden table on which dozens of colorful pots which held some strange and most peculiar plants. “I told them about it.”

_“My father will hear about this!” Daphne paced around the Slytherin Common Room late one night. “He’ll know what to do,” She said referring to the fact that her father was a fearsome prosecutor in the Wizarding World._

_Normally Tracey would’ve made a joke of Daphne sounding like Malfoy, but it really wasn’t the time or place. The Quidditch fanatic was sitting with her head ducked in between her hands._

_“Don’t. There’s no point,” Nel let out a drained and exhausted sigh. “Ellar Lestrange is practically ‘untouchable.’”_

_“Why is he?” Tracey suddenly snapped her nostrils flaring as she sat up erect. “Why is he so damn godly and untouchable? Just because he’s a Lestrange?” She spat out the last name with resentful bitterness._

_“We have to do something,” Daphne insisted. “If not, he’s going to do the same thing- perhaps, something worse to somebody else,” she stressed the somebody and the importance of holding him accountable for his assault._

_Despite Daphne’s insistence and Tracey’s frustration Nel remained silent. She had her knuckles pressed to her lips and she seemed lost in thought, head pessimistically shaking slightly from side to side._

_“What can we do?” She gave them both a defeated look. She really had turned ever nut in bolt in her head endlessly trying to think of a way to even things out – even a way to hurt Ellar Lestrange._

_“Please,” Tracey scoffed, dark eyes rolling. “Everybody has a weakness. We just have to find out what his is!” She said determined, her expression mimicking her friend who was sitting next to her in the black leather sofa._

_“Yes,” Daphne began murmuring. “Yes, yes, yes…” She anxiously paced over, and over which made Elowen dizzy. It seemed like the lightbulb went off when she finally stopped and clapped her hands together. “I’ll write to my cousin in France. Perhaps she knows a thing or two.”_

_“I’ve also written to Professor Lupin. Maybe he knows a thing or two as well.”_

_“Lupin?” Daphne wrinkled her nose in distaste at the werewolf. Why? Her knitted brow said. Nel ignored it._

_“A werewolf? Teaching?”_ Nathair interrupted _. “Filthy,”_ He hissed. _“I’ve seen them, lost packs hunting together in the Forbidden Forest. Formidable creatures.”_

Irritated Nel lightly flicked the tip of the snake’s snout. The adder hissed at her in response flashing its large fangs. She seemed unfazed by this gesture. _“Most creatures seem to agree with me.”_ It spoke to her as it coiled around her neck seeking the warmth of her human body.

_“Professor Lupin is a good person. He could be a vampire for all I care.”_

_“Walking leeches,”_ The adder added to the bloodsucking creatures.

_“What if I was a werewolf?”_ She mused more to herself with her arms crossed and resting on her knees. _“Maybe then I’d have a pack to run around with,”_ her voice dulled into a pessimistic feeling as the waves of loneliness and missing a family that there never was came. _“I also am already formidable.”_

_“Oh, I know what are,”_ The serpent whispered in her ear.

Upset, lost in thought Nel dusted the dirt of her clothes and left the greenhouse with the snake snuggly coiled around her neck. Her shoulders were pessimistically slung. She rounded behind the greenhouses and sat behind them on a small grassy hill that overlooked the Whomping Willow and Hagrid’s Hut and pumpkin patch. The Forbidden Forrest bordered in the distance.   
  
_“What do you think I am_?” She asked solemnly fisting some grass in her hand and ripping it up from the ground. She met the adder’s beady red eyes with a profound sadness. It seemed like the more she dug into her past, the more she questioned and wished to know who her family had been or if she still had one the worse things got and the uglier her past appeared to be. Perhaps… it was best this way. Perhaps there had been a reason for her abandonment at Wool’s Orphanage all of those years ago.

_“You’re just a silly little girl who’s afraid of water with too much time to spare. Shouldn’t you be reading? Or doing somebody else’s schoolwork?”_

_“I hate reading,”_ She huffed humorously. Maybe Nathair was right, maybe she should use her time wisely and continue working on other’s assignments. After all the more financial cushion she had the better for the future. Inhaling a deep breath, she held it for a moment before ripping a strand of weeds rather aggressively and releasing the blades of grass for the wind to carry _. “Maybe you’re right. You’re a snake and have always been a snake and I’m just a stupid girl and I’ll always be a stupid girl.”  
  
_ Nathair’s loud hiss made her head rapidly tilt to the side.

_“Self-depreciation does not suit you,”_ it advised.

Rising to her feet again Nel rose and brushed the few strands of greenery in her hands.

“Terribly hiding spot if you ask me,” A familiar voice broke the momentary peace. The snake hissed slightly at it and hid its head and tail inside the student’s sweater and underneath her coat.  
  
 _“It’s that boy that looks like there’s something stuck up his-,”_ the snake whispered into her ear. She ignored it. _“Maybe it’s all that cologne he wears. I can smell him from a mile away.”_ She ignored Nathair’s comment, no matter how humorous she found it.  
  


“If I was hiding you wouldn’t find me,” She shot back at Draco without missing a beat.

He stood a couple of feet away with his hands sank into the pockets of his dark coat. Hair parted on the side, bangs falling across his forehead. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said his lips twisting into a frown.

_Not a lie._

Her frown turned into a scowl as she marched past him. Or at least attempted to.

“I don’t understand why you’re so damn upset,” He followed his temper quickly flaring in frustration.

Not wanting to engage she walked away from him. After being on the verge on an ongoing identity crisis that seemed to be reoccurring every couple of months, she really wasn’t in the mood to argue.

“Nel, come on,” He implored. He stopped following when he realized she wasn’t going to stop in her step. “You’re not a mudblood.”

Halting she turned and zeroed in on him with a deathly glare.

_“I’m going to bite him.”_

“Would it matter?” She snapped furiously at his filthy comment. “What?” He looked startled at her sudden rage.  
“Would it matter if I was?” She marched up to him. “Would it make any difference to you if I was a muggle or mudblood or whatever disgusting and prejudiced, racist, narrow-minded spat of a word you use to call these people?”

He looked startled at her question. “Of course, it would,” He admitted with narrowed eyes looking at her as if she had just grown a second head. She was questioning an ideology that was deeply rooted inside of him. The Malfoy family, like many others privileged wizard families, had reaped and sowed from with their elitism in the Wizarding World. It was a dangerous ideology that had been planted in his young brain and nurtured to grow into a toxic vine that seemed to both wrap and stretch to ensnare every aspect of his life.

She pursed her lips and slowly nodded her head understanding, “Right.”

“But you’re not,” He insisted arching his eyebrows. “You’re a Parselmouth, you’ve clearly got some wizarding blood in you.”

She opened her mouth ready to protest that the status of her genealogy was absolutely nonexistent.

“I don’t understand why you’re so angry.” He was sincerely flabbergasted.

“I don’t understand why you hate them so much,” She shook her head just as perplexed. “What did they ever do to you?”

She stepped closer still looking at him in disbelief waiting for a logical reasoning to his rooted prejudice.

“Well, the _other sort_ ,” He scratched the edge of his nose before running a hand through his bangs as he fidgeted uneasily. “They’re just not the same, are they? They haven’t been brought up our ways.” He reasoned with ease.

“Just like you don’t know theirs,” She retorted sharply. “Draco, I was brought up with muggles. Wizards and muggles are more alike than you think.”

His eyes widened and eyebrows arched at what he took as a serious offense. “Nel, we’re biologically superior to them. You can’t argue with that.”

Okay, true. A muggle really was no watch for a wizard. The average wizard’s lifespan extended to more than 200 years while muggles only lived a fraction of those years. Her silence was her answer.

“Don’t be a traitor to our blood,” he spewed words hailed by pure blood supremacists.

“Please?” He added, his eyebrows knotting in the center of his forehead after hearing her silent response.

“Being with them, _muggles_ ,” He spat the word out with disgust. “It shows weakness in one’s character. They’re filthy. Brutal, uneducated in our ways- they use their hands,” He raised his pale hands in front of his chest and lightly waved his fingers “To do things. Like muggle-brawling. It’s barbaric,” He scoffed in disgust.

“Those aren’t your words,” She glared at him. He was sounding more and more like Lucius Malfoy by the minute. He stood in silence looking at her with pleading eyes. As he asked her to agree with the ways he was so sure of.

“I am my father’s son,” was all he said.

The two shared a silence. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t pleasant. It was heavy and lingering and allowed the other to know where they stood in this argument.  
  
“I see we’re not going to reach an agreement,” she said quietly now averting her gaze from his. The scaly texture of the snake hidden underneath her clothes a reminder her she had places to be. Sensing she was about to walk away Draco summoned every ounce of strength that he had, and once again spoke.

“Nel,” He attempted to catch her eyes with his. “There’s something I have to say to you.” One of his hands which had been nervously twirling the emerald ring his mother had given him was now pulling at one of the velvet black buttons of his coat. He tried his best not to fidget as he remembered the conversation, he had had with Theodore Nott what now seemed to be ages ago. He had insisted that he tell her whatever it was that had been keeping him up at night and always had him starring at her lost in thought in Transfigurations class. He tried to ignore his pounding heart.   
He had a feeling she wasn’t going to take whatever it was he was about to say well.

“Whatever it is- I don’t want to hear it Malfoy!” She barked eyeing him from head to toe as if he was covered in filth. His vulnerable body language completely going a miss to her.

“Give me a moment,” He demanded entitled reaching for her shoulder boldly stopping her from taking a harsh turn when it happened.

Draco let out a small yell and immediately flinched bringing his hand back to his lip biting down on the fresh venemous bite.

Nathair revealed himself from the inside of Elowen’s clothes and crept out resting like a diamond patterned scarf. The adder’s snout was open in a dangerous snarl as it bore it large fangs in a threatening snarl. Its body was still as it coiled aggressively sensing its master had been threatened.

“Your snake! It bit me!” Draco cried out. Eyes wide at the stinging realization.

_‘Disgusting!’_ Nathair spat out in a pronounced hiss. ‘ _And I won’t hesitate to do it again pretty boy!’_ Nel looked at the snake in astonishment, sure she was upset but she wasn’t expecting her pet to attack!

“It bit me!” Draco cried out exaggeratedly. “I’m going to die!” He shouted dramatically holding his hand which was beginning to turn pink and swell from the venom of the adder.

Oh boy, this is the same person that had been kicked by a Hippogriff and had the ‘bloody chicken’ almost beheaded.

“Draco,” Nel began slowly and carefully inching closer towards him. “Get that damn thing away from me!” He looked at the snake with fear. The girl paused and picked up the snake from her neck before putting it down near the front of the green house. _‘Never put your fangs in the hands of the ungrateful,_ ’ The snake sneered in disappointment at what it perceived to be a lack of thankfulness. Its master gave it a warning look that could be interpreted as an _‘We’ll talk later.’_ The snake slithered away complaining about how disgusting human flesh tasted even tossed a ‘ _Swine’_ somewhere in its rant.

“Okay- you need to calm down,” She approached him with a wary look hands stretched out hoping he would become more appeased.

“Are adders venomous?” He asked with a panicked expression. All the blood seemed to have drained from his face.   
  
For a second she pondered if she should lie or not.   
“Yes,” Nel responded carefully hoping not to elicit an explosive reaction from him.

“I’m definitely going to die!” He wailed in desperation. She instantly regretted telling him the truth. Merlin, he was acting like a child. It was only a snake bite. Didn’t he worship serpents? His whole family being in a House with one in its crest, even wearing one engraved on one of his rings?  
  
“Adders are venomous, but their bite is rarely fatal. If anything, it’ll just swell up for a couple of weeks. The venom might cause some damage and discomfort, but certainly nothing fatal,” She explained calmly. Or at least she wished she could’ve completed that short explanation. Instead, halfway through Draco’s eyes seemed to go blank before his body tilted forward as he collapsed, his body going limp.

* * *

Madame Pomfrey walked across the Hospital Room with ease as she retrieved something from her cabinet of special potions and ointments.

Nel sat on a chair with her arms crossed a bored and unconcerned look on her features as she looked down at the pale boy in the hospital bed.

Hearing the sound of chattering enter the Hospital Room, Nel looked up and waved at her two friends that entered the room and immediately rushed towards the bed standing across from their sitting friend.

“What did you do to him?” Daphne asked her eyes wide in awe as she looked at the unconscious Slytherin in the bed.

“I love that you assume _this_ was my doing,” Nel sniggered proud at the formidable reputation she had built for herself in her past 4 years at Hogwarts.

“A snake bit him,” She explained in brevity.

“Is he-?” Tracey asked as she looked down at her school mate with a concerned look. “Not that I’m concerned or anything, but- this means there’s a slot in the Slytherin Quidditch team!” She finished her sentence in an eager and upbeat tone.

“We thought something happened to you!” Daphne whipped up a note that had been sent by owl that in six words read: _Come to the Hospital Room. – Nel._   
  
“Be more detailed next time, Stars,” Daphne shook her head irritated from the panic attack she had suffered from rushing to the Hospital Room.  
  
Nel apologized for the worry she must’ve caused the two.

It was then that Madame Pomfrey shooed the two Slytherins from the side as she walked behind them and poured what looked like pumpkin juice and placed a bar of fudge on the stand next to Malfoy’s bed. His hand had already been lathered with ointment and bandaged.

“Mr. Malfoy will be just fine; he can leave as soon as he wakes up. Nasty little shock is all,” Pomfrey explained before once again retreating.

Both Tracey and Daphne looked at the back of the Healer as she retreated and back to their friend.

“He fainted?” Tracey failed to hide her laughter. “He actually fainted?” She held her stomach as if it was the funniest thing she had ever heard. Even Daphne couldn’t stop her giggling.   
  
“Not before throwing a fantastic tantrum,” Nel added joining them in their laugh.

“How did that even happen?” Daphne asked.

Nel shrugged. “Accidents happen in the greenhouse all the time,” she said dismissively really not wanting to explain she had been venting to a snake.

“And you two were there – _together?”_ Daphne’s eyebrows arched so high up they almost vanished into her hair line. Eyes wide. Tracey who looked like she hadn’t been thinking about the scenario now looked intrigued by the blonde’s question.

Nel felt like she was on the hot seat in the middle of an interrogation she really didn’t feel like answering.

“Malfoy,” She derided with an exaggerated overemphasis. “You know how he is,” She let out an irritated sigh. “Just wanted to torture me.”

“What was he doing in the greenhouse?” Daphne pressed heavily sensing there was a missing piece to this story.

“Looking for me,” Nel retorted sharply and much more rapidly than she intended. She bit her tongue rapidly switching topics before she could ask any more questions. “Anyway- I wanted to read to you two the letter I got from Professor Lupin.” She said digging a hand into her coat’s pockets and whipping up a wrinkled and crumbled letter.

“Right here?” Tracey asked wondering why she would read the letter to the two of them in the middle of the Hospital Room. Her dark eyes looked down at the sleeping boy.

“He’s passed out.”

“You know, you don’t have to wait for him to wake up, right?” Daphne asked her eyes squinting as the edges with heavy suspicion. She was observing her friend closely waiting for her skin to flush or for her to stumble on her words and reveal a glimpse of sincere emotion. 

“I feel obligated,” Nel responded cooly leaning back on her chair with her arms crossed. She pretended the hot flash that she felt behind her neck wasn’t really there.

“Sure,” Daphne responded with a satisfied smirk. Her suspicions had been right all along. Theodore had also slipped to her about a little talk he had had with Draco only a few weeks ago.   
Tracey appeared to be clueless to all this.

“Anyhow-“ Saintday cleared her throat and she brought the parchment paper Lupin had written to her eye level. She skimmed over most and simply read over the relevant parts of it.

_‘Ellar Lestrange comes from an ancient wizarding family of pureblood fanatics. Many practice the Dark Arts and have been known to be vocal and the most loyal supporters of You-Know-Who. His father Rabastan has been in Azkaban for the violent torturing of two Aurors. His mother Cloelia, I believe it is rumored feigned being a victim of domestic abuse as a way of being coaxed into following You-Know-Who.’_

Nothing they didn’t already know.

_  
_“Is that true?” Tracey asked sounding concerned.  
“If she lied that’s really messed up!” Daphne said in awe. “We should always believe victims but this-“ She hesitated to finish her sentence and instead decided to remain silent.

Nel thought about all of the mental and physical abuse she had endured when living under Cloelia’s roof. She liked to think that a victim would never do something so monstrous to another person, much less a child. However, maybe she was more than familiar with torture methods having picked them up from her husband.   
Still, with the Lestrange’s one never knew.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past him,” Nel responded in a dull tone, her expression pained as she continued to read. The possibility of Cloelia being a victim of a life of domestic abuse no matter how far-fetched was possible.  
  
 _“Like I said- they were known to be some of You-Know-Who’s most loyal followers. I can’t help but get an ill feeling when I think about the strange reason, they must’ve had to adopt you. I wish I-“_ Nel stammered and soon lost her voice.

Again, nothing they didn’t already know.

Tracey and Daphne asked her to continue. When she didn’t and they noticed her glassy eyes, they became concerned. She kept the next part to herself.

_‘I wish I could do more for you Nel. I would be proud to be your guardian, but due to my condition I’m afraid it is not safe and would make the adoption process impossible in the eyes of any court.’_

“Sorry,” The girl mumbled weakly as she wiped the inside of her eye with her thumb fighting back the tears that had threatened to spill.

The thought of having an adequate guardian. Somebody as kind as Professor Lupin. Someone that didn’t scream, yell, lock you in a room, or hurt you – It seemed like such a far away ideal. A dream the girl had long accepted would never become a reality.

_“I would advise you to do everything in your power not to return to them this holiday.”_

She lowered the parchment down to her lap and sucked the inside of her lip in deep in thought. The majority of information was useless. If anything, it only confirmed what the three already knew, that the Lestranges were in fact very dangerous people.

“So, what are you going to do then?” Tracey asked. “You could come home with me for the holiday if you’d like,” She offered kindly willing to provide a sanctuary to her best friend. Nel’s face lit up. That would be ideal! The two would have the best time going to Quidditch matches and staying up late talking about the best and worst flavor of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Jellybean or watch Muggle films

“Really?” She answered loudly grinning broadly.

“Wait-“ Daphne interrupted the moment the two were sharing. She also didn’t offer her home. Knowing full well what would happen to her and her guest if she even dared bring home somebody whose surname wasn’t listed in the Sacred Twenty-Eight. “That doesn’t tell us anything about Ellar. Nothing we didn’t already know,” She said returning to the focus of the conversation.

“I heard back from my cousin in France,” she began. “She used a very colorful language to describe Ellar. Said he’s a – what was the word she used? ‘Manipulative snake,’ that he can be downright foul. Apparently, he event went a far as assaulting a muggle-born witch that worked in the same Department. It got so bad she eventually quit.”

“Like- sexual harassment?” Tracey squinted.

  
“Does it make a difference?” Daphne arched an eyebrow. “Not that my cousin ever did anything to stop it-“ She admitted regretfully. “But this is exactly what I am trying to say!” Daphne slapped her hand on her thigh as she continued to speak her tone becoming louder and more passionate.   
“You’re clearly not the first girl he’s done something like this to – and you’re obviously not the last. Who knows how many more survivors there are-“ Greengrass didn’t realize the shift in emotion in her friend’s whose face twisted into a confused expression? _“Survivors?”_ She coughed with disdain.  
  
“-If he did this to you, and to this girl, he’s going to do it to someone else!” She finished with a concerned look. “We have to do something about this.”

“What do you recon we do?”

“I also heard back from my father,” She began to explain. “He said this is very serious. However, he says conviction cases for these types of crimes are very low. The success rate of a conviction in England is 5.7%.”

“5.7?!” Tracey’s mouth went a little slack.

“And that’s coming from an even smaller percentage of victims who actually speak up.” Again, Nel lightly flinched at the word _‘victims’_ it wasn’t something she would ever wear as a label. If anything, it was something she saw as a branding to her identity. She wouldn’t allow Ellar, Wool or whoever to have that type of power in her life.   
Daphne took in a deep breath before continuing. “He also said it’s going to be even harder to prosecute considering we have no physical evidence including your memories which most Wizarding courts consider to be unreliable, and even if we did - The Lestranges have too much power in the judicial system.”

“Bunch of crooks,” Tracey shook her head disappointed biting down on her thumb as she appeared to be deep in thought.

“You have to do something about this Nel,” Daphne insisted. Her friend looked at her with a pure look of negation. “As much as we hate him, you have to tell the Headmaster.” She looked between the two girls.  
  
“Tell Dumbledore?” Eyes were wide in disbelief at what the Slytherin had just suggested.

“I can already tell you what would happen if Dumbledore knew,” Tracey leaned back on her chair. “Absolutely nothing,” She said pessimistically. “We’re Slytherin. He hates us.”

Daphne’s shoulder’s slumped in defeat.

Going to Dumbledore had also been Nel’s first instinct. Something Snape had strongly advised against. His reasons unknown as the old bat kept his agenda so cleverly hidden. Regardless, there had to be a valid reason. Either Snape knew no good would come from it or he was protecting Ellar Lestrange. There was no in between and Elowen wanted to find out which it was.  
  
“Trace is right,” Nel admitted sadly. “He was already expelled from Hogwarts once. What are they going to do him? Expel him from Beauxbatons?” It was a hard pill to swallow but people like Ellar Lestrange – privileged entitled, monsters – more than often got away with only a slap on the wrist.

“The least he can do is protect you,” Daphne continued pressing.

  
“I’m not telling Dumbledore. Why are you being so pushy?” Nel scowled bothered on how much her friend had been insisting she tell the truth to Dumbledore. Daphne looked greatly frustrated.   
“This is such bullshit!” The Parselmouth angrily kicked the hospital bed making the boy in it let out a deep brown and the sudden disturbance. She seemed to ignore this.

“You need to do it Nel,” Daphne again insisted, this time her tone stern. “You’re a victim.”

“I am _not_ a victim,” The other snarled in denial. “I refuse to allow this, or any other sad incident define my life!” The girl said terribly upset speaking through gritted teeth. “Do you know what would happen if I told on every single person that’s ever-“ She brought herself to a halt before emotionally shutting down. Both Daphne and Tracey saw the distant look in her dark eyes. “This is my battle to fight.”

“We’re here to help you. You don’t have to do it alone,” Tracey said gently. The tension increasingly growing between the two parties.   
  
“Alone. This is my battle to fight _alone,”_ She corrected defensively isolating and building high emotional walls around herself. Her head hurting and suddenly feeling hot as an incoming migraine began to set in.

Tracey looked wounded. Daphne’s nostrils were flaring. “I can see we’re not going to agree,” She retorted flatly.

“I guess not,” was the other’s answer, her tone made it seem as if her mind was many miles away in some distant faraway place.

Daphne stood up and angrily walked away without looking back. Tracey called after her. Her eyes darting between her blonde and brunette friend. With one last woeful look towards her friend, with a tucked tail she followed after the blonde.

Sitting alone in the Hospital Room the orphan pinched the bridge of her nose in great frustration and lowered her body to bury her head on her knees. If only life were as easy as Daphne made it seem. If she told on Ellar odds were, he would only receive a slap on the hand and he and his terrible mother would come after her with a blind wrath. It wasn’t a risk she was willing to take. She was betting this was what Snape was afraid would happen.

She fought back the tears that were threatening to spill and sucked in an exhausting breath as she tried to think of nothing.

“You can’t tell Dumbledore,” A throaty voice interrupted. She didn’t move an inch but heard Draco’s sheets moving as his body shifted positions. “It’ll only make things worse. My father always says he was the worst thing that ever happened to this place.”

She could hear him drinking the juice that Madame Pomfrey had left out for him.

“You heard everything?” She asked meekly.

“You wanted me to. If not, you would’ve left,” He rationalized.

“Touché,” She said sitting up using both of her hands to comb all of her hair and bangs away from her swollen face. Not wanting to think about Ellar, the drowning or her awful fight with her friends she looked at him with a lopsided grin and instead decided to bully him.   
  
“Is it true you fainted? Like- actually fainted?” She joked mocking him just like he had done to Harry the year before.

However, he didn’t laugh.

“You sent your pet after me,” He ignored her jab and downed the rest of his juice.

“If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done it myself,” She answered her voice returning to an unfriendly tone.

“Right,” He agreed. Afterall, she wasn’t the type to shy about this kind of thing. Considering he wasn’t freaking out about the snake bite Nel assumed he had also overheard everything that Madame Pomfrey had said about his condition and the status of his health.

“That git,” The words rolled out of his lips in a dangerously angry voice. She looked at him confused and noticed how his hands were tightly clenched into balling fists. “I’ll make him pay. I promise.”

She knew that if Draco was anything he was determined. She had no question he meant what he had just said. Yet she couldn’t help but be confused by his words.

“You don’t have to do that,” She squinted perplexed. “Not for me. I can take care of myself,” She said lowering her head, her voice dropping to a whisper as her hair once again came down hiding her emotion. After all this was her own fight, one she wanted to win or lose alone.   
She sat with her head lowered and her shoulders tensed when she felt a soft hand gently press against her forehead. Keeping her gaze lowered, she allowed him to push her brown hair out of her face and comb it over her forehead.

He let out a small chuckle. Nel wasn’t sure whether it was at the strange expression she must’ve been wearing or at the thought of whatever evil plan he was crafting to hurt Ellar. “I’ll enjoy this,” He said maliciously.

Something about the way he said it embarrassingly made her heart skip a beat. Draco was now sitting up still wearing his weekend clothing. He had brought his uninjured hand to his chin and was twirling one of his rings with fascination as he looked deep in thought. The slightest of growing smirks on his face as he concocted the fatal details of his vengeful plan. 

“Wait-“ She paused snapping out of his charming behavior. “Let me get this straight. You can do this for me- but you can’t learn to accept muggles as your equal?”

“Muggles are dangerous,” he began to explain lowering his hand and relaxing in his bed. Hadn’t he just said wizards were superior? “I’m not contradicting myself. What I mean to say is- haven’t you paid attention in History of Magic?”

Obviously not. Merlin’s beard it was the most awful class in all of Hogwarts with Binns mindlessly lecturing which seemed to go on for hours and hours.   
  
“Muggles used to persecute our kind, burn us at the stake, drown and torture us.” Nel visibly recoiled at the mentioning of the word drowning. “They singlehandedly almost destroyed our kind and forced our world into hiding. It shouldn’t be like that.”

She pondered on his words for a moment. “You have a point,” She finally agreed with him. “But I know muggles. They are more scared of us than us then we are of them. They fear what they can’t understand. I don’t blame them for-“  
“For what? For massacring hundreds of our kind!” She wasn’t expecting him to raise his voice.

“How many of them have we killed?” She shot back just as loudly. “Hundreds? Thousands? How many did You-Know-Who kill? _Or your father?”_ She spat coldly.

Ouch.

He grew silent at the mentioning of his father’s illicit activities as a Death Eater. His icy eyes were hard when he looked at her. For once Malfoy didn’t have a snarky comeback or any colorful words to throw at her.

  
“Don’t. Bring my father into this,” He sneered out in drawled out sentences.

“He’s cruel and vile and I will be bringing him into this as long as he continues to poison your mind. Go out there into the real world and once you’ve seen what it’s like I’ll let you make up your mind about it. Because you know what-“ She hadn’t meant for it to happen but her eyes began to water, her voice cracked at the emotional exhaustion of the day something he had not been anticipating happening. “As of right now,” She broke, trying her best to hold it in together, to not allow the stinging tears from spilling. “I have met many, many more cruel wizards in this side of the world than in the other and that’s from someone that was raised by Cordelia Wool,” She let out a doleful weak laugh.  


“Who’s Cordelia Wool?” Malfoy asked after a moment as he racked his brain for any instance in which she might’ve mentioned it. He remembered her saying Wool’s more than once. Maybe this is what she meant.

One hot tear followed by another which meant it was time to go into hiding being the recluse she was. “Forget it,” She said rising from her chair wiping her tears and walking away without bidding him goodbye or good riddance.

Draco tossed his head back and looked at the ceiling feeling a great frustration. Why was it that something always come in between them and royally fucked things up? Perhaps it was better to leave things the way they were, spare her the pain as Theodore had once suggested.  
  
However, looking up she was horrified to see Professor McGonagall standing in the entrance of the Hospital Room. The look in her eyes severe, lips drawn into a thin line. It could only mean one thing.

Fuck.

“Ms. Saintday, the Headmaster has requested to see you.”

* * *

Dumbledore’s office was warm and welcoming like it always was. McGonagall escorted Elowen into the office keeping a close mistrustful eye on the student.

Walking in she crossed paths with Daphne Greengrass whose gaze was hard and did not meet her friend’s as she brushed past her on the way out.

Fucking Daphne.

Nel felt the pits of her stomach bubbling with rage. Looking at her. Tracey following behind with an apologetic look and then back to Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore who gravely stood before a fireplace both wearing solemn expressions on their faces. It was obvious Daphne had croaked.

Elowen was livid. How dare she. This was _her_ story to tell, _NOT HERS_.   
Nel was the affected one, _NOT_ golden haired, precious, privileged, beautiful, Daphne Greengrass. A deep scowl formed in her features as she shot a chilling glare to the girl’s retreating back.

“Ms. Saintday,” The Headmaster acknowledged her momentarily seizing her attention. “It’s been a while since our last visit,” He said smiling at her softly. The man stood tall as he usually did, wearing his half-moon glasses holding both hands resting on his lap.

Snape looked at her with a condescending look.

Nel remained silent at the greeting ignoring it.

“Ms. Greengrass and Ms. Davis have just come to me with a most serious concern,” Dumbledore began. “Perhaps _accusation_ is a better word of choice.”

Her mouth felt dry. McGonagall was still standing behind her. Snape’s bottomless eyes carefully fixed on her. Dumbledore looked as if he was attempting to pry into her mind with his twinkling blue eyes. “Before any actions are taken, we wanted to hear the story from your own account as it happened.” He stretched out a hand signaling for her to take a seat before the fireplace. She did no such thing and remained standing looking at the two with hard eyes.

The silence was deafening with the exception of Fawkes combing over his feathers and the fire softly cracking in the background. She could also feel the eyes of the many former Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts’ looking down at her in judgment.

She could feel him now physically attempting to pry into her mind. She emptied her head out of all thoughts and the vision of a safe shut tightly and the dial spun hiding away her thoughts and secrets.

“Your master has taught you well Elowen,” Dumbledore commented at her growth in occlumency. Wait- how did she know that word?  
Occlumency, the art of magically closing one’s mind against Legilimency, or mind readers. She didn’t know how, but somehow, she knew what the word meant.  
  


Again, she did not say a single word. His eyes moved over to Professor Snape who uncrossed his arms and from inside one of his sleeves pulled out a small vial containing no color and bubbling slightly. “Know what this is?” He drawled out; his voice emotionless.

“Bubble bath soap?” She retorted with dripping sarcasm.

Snape did not seem amused.

“Veritaserum,” He responded. “Three drops of this and You-Know-Who himself would spill his darkest secrets.” She looked at him incredulously. Certainly, they weren’t hoping to use it on her. “The use of this on a student is regrettably forbidden. However, seeing as Mr. Lestrange’s involvement in this anecdote cannot be ignored and since he is no longer part of this institution my hand might just slip on his pumpkin juice and we might have to hear his version of the events.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” She lied flawlessly as if her life depended on it maybe it did.

Snape exchanged a look with Dumbledore.

“Elowen, Ms. Greengrass claimed that Ellar Lestrange lured you into the docks some time ago. There he not only threatened you, but he also made an attempt on your life mocking and attempting to drown you in the Black Lake. Is this true?” Dumbledore leaned forward as if attempting to pull the truth out from her.

“It’s a lie.” She answered flatly.

“Elowen,” He pressed again this time taking slow strides around her almost like a shark rounding its prey. His eyes looking for any sign of betrayal. “This is a safe space. This institution does not tolerate the harassment of others. Much less if it endangers the life of one of our students.”

_‘Rich coming from the same people that allowed Slytherin House and others to bully me for the majority of my time in this institution,’_ she thought with bitter resentment. 

“Ellar Lestrange is my adoptive brother. Why would he hurt me?” She probed in her best reasonable logic. “I’m just as aware of his reputation, sir, but tell me- this being true, what reason would I have to protect him?”

Dumbledore nodded his head slowly. “Ms. Saintday, if you confide in us. I can assure you that no harm will come to you. The steps that would follow would be taking Mr. Lestrange’s witness, then contacting his parents, and then-“ She had to interrupt. “And then what? He’d be expelled from Beuxbaton and transfer to Durmstrang? Just like he did from here, right?” She responded with snark.

Dumbledore allowed her to continue.

“I think the real question here is why Ms. Greengrass and Ms. Davis would make up such an elaborate lie.”

Again, silence as the three professors exchanged knowing looks.

“Saintday has a point,” Snape suddenly broke the silence. She tried her best not to look at the Professor with surprise. So, he was siding with her. She was holding up her end of the bargain and keeping her mouth shut to what had happened. Her suspicions were correct. If anything, Ellar would only receive a slap to the wrist, get away with it and then she’d have to deal with Cloelia’s blind wrath. To her it seemed like they were in the same page.

“I assure you I keep a close eye on my House Headmaster. Specially on Saintday who seems to have the keen ability to surround herself with... trouble. I can assure we would not be standing here having this hopeless discussion, if I had caught wind of this rumor before.”

Dumbledore stopped now holding his hands behind his back as he gazed at the fire deep in thought as he marinated on the Potion Master’s words.   
  
“For as much as you persuade Ms. Saintday, I don’t believe you,” He looked back at her with a mistrusting gaze.

“But you believe Professor Snape, sir,” Nel shot back her body language mirroring the Headmasters.

Behind her McGonagall looked at the interaction with concern.

Snape gave Dumbledore a look that seemed to say this conversation was over. After all, they had no arguments if they didn’t have the main witness admitting to the events. However, unknowingly to the student all of this had been pre-rehearsed and already discussed amongst the two men.

“Very well,” It seemed like Dumbledore had given up. “But do tell me Elowen, and I hope you are truthful. How do you fancy your new guardian Ms. Cloelia? Real nit-picky student from what I recall.”

It was lie, after lie, after lie. Nel had never lied so much to a person before. She was surprised at how easily the lies slipped from her mouth. She wasn’t aware that Dumbledore didn’t seem to believe a single word that came out of her mouth and if she did, she didn’t care. Instead, the Headmaster was looking at her moving mouth and edging grin with a fearful eye. It wasn’t the first time he was witness to it, but the shadow of a lonely orphan boy from a familiar background who also possessed the affinity to speak to snakes and the ability to flawlessly lie was instead standing before him.

His assumptions, as always had been correct. Despite Severus best efforts to protect her. Nel Saintday was beyond salvation. The evil within her louder and bolder than ever. It was then that Dumbledore decided that “The Girl Who Died” would have to return and die at the hand of her creator.

Professor Snape walked Nel down the stairs of Dumbledore’s office and lead her down to the dungeons and to his office. His hand in the form of a C was angrily pressing on the nape of her neck as he quickly ushered her inside of his office.

“Let go off me!” She slapped his hand away and looked at him with a furious expression. “I am not a child anymore!” She heaved drained from the restless day she had had.

“You insolent, stupid, dunder-head, foolish, girl!” He exclaimed and whipped his wand behind him to lock the door of his private office. This spew of insults and verbal abuse coming from the Professor was sadly not unfamiliar to her. She wasn’t expecting him to be so upset.

He was acting as if she had signed someone’s death sentence.

“Shut mouths catch no flies,” He raised his want in offensive. Triggered she did the same not blinking afraid the professor might strike her. After all, it had never stopped anyone before. Putting on a brave face, she attempted not to show the fear she felt or how her knees were trembling as she expected to be gravely wounded. There was no way she’d be able to take on a Hogwarts Professor, much less somebody as ruthless as Snape.

“Foolish girl. You had to open your damn mouth and babble to Greengrass, Davis and Merlin know who else.”

“What Lestrange did was fucked up and you know it,” She spat vulgarly not minding she was speaking to an adult. Neither lowering her trembling hand or stance. Jaw clenched tightly as she hoped her focus would be of an advantage to her. Snape’s body mirrored her own.

Just looking at her made an emotional wound on his chest soar with painful heat and a burning guilt. Dumbledore felt Elowen was beyond reason. That her nature had long ago sealed her fate. That, that awful curse that branded her face had also sealed this same destiny.

But he liked to believe otherwise. He liked to believe she could be good. That she had a choice.

There was no use in beating around the bush when it came to discussing why it was best not to take any action in punishing Ellar Lestrange with the juridical system involved. Both saw the bigger picture and were in the same place. Snape wasn’t protecting Ellar, he was protecting her, but why?

“He can’t kill you,” He said directly.

“Why?” Her sharp tongue followed suit.

“You serve a very specific purpose for the Dark Lord and have been placed under the custody of the Lestranges because of it.”

“Right,” she answered with a deep canyon forming in between her brows and a tightly clenched jaw. “That I gathered. A Parselmouth orphan taken into the home of one of Voldemort’s most loyal followers I could hardly expect it to be charitable.”

“Good, you’re catching on. Perhaps you have matured since last time we met.”

She ignored this. Whatever he meant by saying last time. This conversation. This scenario it almost felt like it had happened before as if they had already had this conversation, but something had gone awry wrong. It was almost like dejavu.

“You’ve been teaching me occlumency, not how to control my emotions or whatever bullshit that was.”

Snape remained silent. It was true.

“Why?”

“You will find that just like today the ability to hide one’s thoughts is a useful one and I haven’t the slightest doubt that others, witches and wizards more dangerous than the Headmaster might even rely on sadistic methods of torture to pry the truth from your big mouth.”

“Who else knows about the incident with Ellar Lestrange?” He questioned.

“No one,” She lied without hesitation. Snape whipped his wand, and a red spark stung her arm like a pinch, she winced at the sensation. “Dare you use my own spells against me.”

“Draco Malfoy,” She spat truthfully with a look of concern. “He won’t open his mouth.   
“I trust he won’t,” Snape added swiftly knowing well that Draco Malfoy had more on the line than Elowen did. Being directly related to the Lestranges he wouldn’t raise any hell towards them. Nel decided to keep what Draco had promised her to herself. Snape slowly lowered his wand and guard. Elowen didn’t. “He’s got more bidding on the line than you do if he spreads your precious little secret.”

She bit her tongue standing angry and frustrated. “Why does he want me? What does he want from me? What could I possibly give him? I have nothing. NOTHING! I am nobody,” She heaved as her emotions came crashing like waves and spilled like tears. Like broken risks, recordings of Wool telling her she was worthless, locking her in the Chokey, Lucy going missing. Not having a parent, a name, a single galleon owed to her worthless life. This life that Elowen had been given… She didn’t want it. It was numbing moments like this that made her feel like it wasn’t worth living.

“Same reason he wants Potter,” Snape cleverly lied to hide the Dark Lord’s true intentions and motives.

“To kill me,” Nel nodded and lowered her wand slowly as the horrible realization sank in. The only reason Ellar hadn’t killed her that one night or Cordelia had all summer long was because they were saving her like a pig for slaughter. She thought about the way most of the Purebloods looked at her, the way Mr. Malfoy always so strangely looked and fixated on her. He obviously knew this – How many more people knew? Did Draco know?  
  
“He need not bother, at this point I’ll do him the favor myself and give up on this miserable existence.” She wasn’t expecting her wand to fly out of her hand or for Snape to look at her with such fury, in his eyes was reflected a broken look. Again, Snape was haunted by the dark flashback of the night Elowen came to be during that obscure evening all those years ago. The guilt of the atrocious things he had done still rocked him to his core.

“I do not take threats such as suicide lightly Saintday,” He warned her. “I still expect many things from you, cowardice, is not one of them,” he glowered with cold contempt.

Snape again pointed his wand at her and Nel flinched expecting him to wound her instead a chair behind her crashed into the back of her legs forcing her to sit down. Emotionally defeated she complied and sat, wiping away the numb tears that slid down her emotionless face. She now felt a burdening guilt at the words that had just left her mouth. Where had that venomous thought come from? The terrifying thought made her body violently shake as the tears continued to spill.

“I will not apologize for my tone or harsh words towards you,” Snape began harshly now speaking in a collected and calmer voice. Hands behind his back as he stood tall looking down at his student. “Life is hard. We learn and we grow and I’m afraid I will not allow you to have a choice in this or leave us behind to pick up the broken pieces of your short, sad and pitiable life,” He soothed in his own twisted way. Words which didn’t alleviate her pain or made her feel any better about the horrible thought she had just had.

_“It is her purpose,” Dumbledore said coldly with much indifference. “As I’ve told you before, it does not matter where Elowen Saintday resides, the Dark Lord will find her. How many more lives must be lost?”_

Snape swallowed hard displaying the slightest glimpse of emotion. Be it his guilt, he always felt a sense of responsibility to protect the creature sitting before him. He had brought her to this world and because of that this monster was his responsibility. Burden or not.   
His alcoholic muggle father had once walked out on his mother and him, be of relationship to this child or not, would he be able to do the same?   
Was this something he had inherited from his bastardic nature?

No, that wouldn’t be him. He wasn’t his father. With a deep sigh he approached her and stood before her. She sat deep in thought, miserable, friendless having pushed everyone who cared about her away. She was so lost in thought she didn’t hear the Professor clearly saying her name until he knelt on one knee meeting her eye level.

How many times had he had the poor girl crying her eyes out to him? How many times had he failed in his ways to show her the smallest glimpse of humanity?

“Nel,” She stopped sitting with a surprised look on her swollen, red face. She couldn’t remember if he had ever addressed her by the name, she considered to be her own. “Look at me,” his voice was softer than his typical nasal tone. She obeyed, nastily sniffing and wiping the snot that was coming down her nose.

Seeking the bits of humanity that were left in him Severus chose to look inside his heart. What would Lily say? What wisdom would she provide to the broken girl sitting in the Potion Master’s office chair.  
  
“I understand,” He spoke in brevity. He chooses not to divulge any details about his personal life. “Perhaps I was out of line,” He admitted regretfully. “I’m aware that I can be rather harsh, but I want you to understand it comes from…” He paused for a moment masterfully and very carefully picking the words he would say next. He’d never vocally admit to it coming from a place of care.  
“I want you to be strong. Life isn’t easy. We both know yours hasn’t and it is not going to get any easier.”

She didn’t respond to his unfamiliarly kind words.

“Just know,” He said placing his large hand on her upper arm in a familiar way hoping to comfort her. His brown eyes zeroed in on her dark ones and maybe from up this close Snape looked human and not like a giant sulking bat. He smelt of salts and other potions ingredients. Even the middle of his forehead was sunken in genuine concern.

It took great will power to make the following promise. A promise he intended on keeping.   
  
“I will do everything in my power to protect you.”:

Unsure of what came over her the girl threw her arms around the professor and held him tightly. He held the child back.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *TRIGGER WARNINGS*  
> This chapter includes the following triggers.  
> \- drug use  
> \- mentions of suicide  
> \- death  
> \- slight gore  
> \- violence  
> \- depression and anxiety

The dull oatmeal might as well have been sawmill dust. It was just one of those days that felt duller than the last. Lately for Nel it had kind of been like that. She shot a woeful look at the empty seats across from her where Tracey would usually be joking around and Daphne talking about her latest work of art. Letting out an exhausted sigh, she turned her attention to _The Daily Prophet_ which was next to her breakfast. She didn’t care much for the articles but attempted to keep her mind busy from the fact both her best friends weren’t speaking to her and the horrible holiday she would have to spend with her cruel guardian, Cloelia Lestrange, and her psychotic adoptive brother.

“This has to stop,” A voice interrupted. Nel looked up to see Theodore quickly sit in front of her. He looked over his shoulder making sure his girlfriend wasn’t around to witness him threading with the ‘enemy.’   
“Nel, this is absurd, just apologize for whatever you did and make up with Daphne and Trace. I can’t be looking over my shoulder like this every time I talk to you.”

For somebody who knew a lot about everything, Theodore didn’t know much about people.

“You know Daphne is upset because of what you did and well, I think Tracey is just hurt,” He expanded.

Her dark eyes fixed on him with no expression. Theo was acting worse than the girls. He was acting like a two-faced bitch. Sneaking around when interacting with the orphan girl so he wouldn’t upset Daphne. Nel didn’t know what was worse his cowardness or his willingness to do anything for his girlfriend. She secretly prayed never to be that pathetically whipped.

It was then that the rest of the Slytherin’s arrived and Theodore scampered away to take a seat with them.   
To make matter’s worse Pansy’s loud laughter and cheerier attitude at the new company she kept was the cherry on top.   
Part of the reason she didn’t want to speak to them was – yes, because of the whole telling Dumbledore her story, but the other half of it…   
  
The Dark Lord wanted to kill her. He had placed a bounty on her head. The Lestranges knew it, so did Mr. Malfoy, she eyed her friends from a distance. This time her gaze shifting into a suspicious one. Just how much did they really know? How much had they overheard during dinners with their families? Eyes moving across the room she looked at the Headmaster who seemed distracted in a hearty conversation. Dumbledore’s façade of being a kind, sweet, twinkly eyed, old man became more corrupt as time passed by and she saw the ugliness in him. He definitely knew.   
There was absolutely no way he didn’t.

Looking all the way across the Great Hall she saw the Gryffindor table. The House she initially wished she had been sorted into. She could see Harry half away struggling to keep his eyes open spilling some pumpkin juice on his uniform. Hermione lecturing from a thick book and Ron trying to help Harry stay awake. They were her friends, too right? They were nice to her, so were some of the other Weasleys. But what if they didn’t really like her? What if they only talked to her because they felt sorry for her?   
Anxiety pricked at her and her insecurities. They hadn’t spoken in a while, maybe they hated her too. Elowen was so engrossed in her own dark cloud of anxious thought that she didn’t realize the second boy that noticed the anxious look on her face from across the room and decided to join her for breakfast this morning taking a seat across from her.

He sat down confidently with an easy smile resting his elbows on the table and greeted her. “What are you doing?” She asked wide-eyed and surprised self-consciously turning to see the dozens of prying eyes that were staring at the two. “Everyone can see us!” She asked wide-eyed.

“Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” Cedric let out a charming laugh. She looked greatly frustrated at his unannounced appearance. They were supposed to keep their partnership down and under the wraps, it simply made everything less complicated.   
  
“We haven’t discussed the Third Task yet. What are we going to do?” He leaned forward with interest, his elbows resting on the table.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” She admitted sincerely. “I haven’t really thought about anything lately,” She said miserably slumping her head on one of her palms. She hadn’t even been in the mood to have any sweets she might encounter. For some reason there had been a lot of pear tarts around her as of the late. However, she didn’t fancy them.

“You don’t look too excited,” He noted observing her obviously upset demeanor. She neither agreed nor disagreed with his statement.   
  
“Say, what do you want to be when you grow up?” He tried shifting the subject.  
  
“A menace to society,” Nel droned out numbly.  
Cedric couldn’t help but laugh, “You know, I’m going to be Ministry of Magic one day,” He boasted with pride. Being in a foul mood Nel fought the urge to roll her eyes _of course_ the golden boy wanted to be Ministry of Magic. How could she have forgotten that?  
  


She didn’t even hear what he said after that. Somehow the conversation quickly shifted back to the Tri-Wizard Tournament and the Third Task.  
  
“Meet me at the Room of Requirement tonight, I’ll see you there after prefect duty,” he leaned forward and whispered before leaving.

The school year was near its end. It was almost the Tri-Wizard tournament so the two really had to get cracking to find out what they were going up against and properly strategize. That meant Nel also had only a few weeks to make up with her friends.   
  
Turning her head, she hoped to meet Tracey’s brown eyes from across the dining table however, the Quidditch player seemed more focused on whatever Millicent was gossiping about.

Nel thought she hadn’t done anything wrong, she was sure, more than certain about it. She even hadn’t gone out of her way to make some elaborate plan for vengeance _yet_ , despite this she felt the need to apologize. Even Theodore had advised her to apologize, but for what? She hadn’t done anything wrong. What would she apologize for? For not wanting to come forward to Dumbledore in fear of retaliation from the Lestrange family? For lying to the Headmaster?  
If anything _they_ had done her wrong. _They_ had gone and babbled _her_ story. It was hard, but she had to remind herself she wasn’t the antagonist in this situation.

Once again looking forward across the room her eyes accidentally met an icy pair this time. She looked away quickly, if she had moved any faster her neck would’ve probably snapped. Suddenly, she couldn’t be in the same room as her attacker any longer. Quickly picking up her belongings she rushed to her first class of the day. 

She rushed out of the Great Hall and was about to reach the stairs when a handheld her back, the grip stern, not gentle or too harsh. She already knew who it was.

“Hello Elowen,” She was pulled back and cornered trapped in between a body and the wall with a stretched arm. Keeping her eyes down her jaw clenched when she saw the bottom of a Beauxbaton eggshell blue uniform pants. Impulsively she pushed past him and tried to walk away but the long boy didn’t flinch at her violent shove.

“I want to speak to you,” He spoke in a smooth voice cornering her further into the small space he had created in between the wall. “I want to give you something.” He spoke suspiciously scratching the tip of his nose, no doubt from having been snorting dragonpuffs.

It was the type of interaction which was downright ugly. Snape had already confirmed the girl’s worst fears. Ellar was planning something vile. So was his mother. Now all she needed to do was prove it. Prove it and find a way to escape going to their home this summer. She knew the moment she crossed the door she was as good as dead, and there was nothing she could do about it.   
  
“Stay away from me!” She spat once again attempting to rush past him.  
  
“Elowen come on,” Again, he spoke in an unstrained and eerily calm voice. “I’m late for class,” She snapped ignoring him.  
  
“History of Magic can wait,” He said senselessly. Nel tried to catch the eye of anybody passing by. She hoped someone would see and help her get out of this trap. “How do you expect me to talk to you after everything you’ve done to me?”

“Everything I’ve done?” He let out a cool laugh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” He ran a hand through his shinny dark hair.  
  
“No ide-“ She coughed incredulously eyes widening in disbelief at what she was hearing.  
“You forced yourself on me, pushed me into the lake and tried to drown me!” She exclaimed, voice breaking at the admission.   
“You’re imagining things,” He didn’t bat an eyelash. “I didn’t do that,” He lied with terrifying ease.

“Yes, you did!” She spat back in a firm voice.

“You must be confused,” His eyes narrowed, and he looked at her as if _she_ was the one acting insane.   
“We went down there just to talk, we started dancing-“   
“Against my will,” She interrupted.   
He didn’t stop his manipulative narrative. “You fell in and I tried to get you out. In a moment of rush, I can understand how that can get confusing,” He smiled at her and even had the audacity to flick her nose in a playful manner. “Here, I got you something,” He said pulling up a small brown pastry box with a pear tart inside.  
  
She smacked his hand and the stupid tart away making it fall to the floor and looked at him furiously.   
  
“You could’ve killed me!”   
  
_“Elowen,”_ He shook his head, ignoring the pastry she had rejected or her livid expression. She hated the way he said her name stretching it out like a long drawl he was too lazy to properly pronounce.   
“Stop twisting things,” He clicked his tongue remaining composed. “Do you hear yourself talk? I didn’t do that. _You_ need help,” He let out a chilling laugh as he gaslight the hell out of the Fourth-Year girl.

She knew he was lying, but why did he sound so certain? There was no way somebody had used a Polyjuice potion to imitate him. There was no absolute way he had someone posing as him at Hogwarts. No way he was telling the truth. So, if she knew he was lying why did she find herself doubting her own memory?  
  
“And even then, it’s your fault for going down to the docks and falling in the water.”

“I didn’t fall-“ She stammered, deciding to stick to the facts she knew. _“You pushed me.”_

He flashed her an irritated look as if he couldn’t believe what she was saying. Elowen was beginning to question herself. _Was she actually imagining things?_

The hallway was now empty and Nel was officially late for class.   
  
“Don’t be unhappy,” He lifted her chin up with a finger and she jerked her head away not wanting to meet his eyes. “Watch the Third Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament with me.”  
  
This time she looked at him in the eye. “No. This is the last time I ask you. Leave me alone,” she warned him before giving him a hearty shove that made him stagger back on his feet.  
  
Ellar stood back racking his brain for any idea to once again seize an emotional grip of control over the girl. He had really messed up at the Yule Ball. He should’ve sucked it up and strung her along for the rest of the year. How could he get her to stop walking away from him? To once again succumb to his will and squeeze her under his thumb. He needed her to attend the Third Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament with him. After all, it was all part of the plan.  
  
“I just asked you to go steady and you walk away from me?” He followed.   
  
To be clear he didn’t ask, it was just another of his demands.   
  
“Nobody’s going to want to go with you just like nobody wanted to go with you to the Yule Ball,” He didn’t stop there when she realized the brunette continued to ignore his calls. “And Malfoy?” He let a rueful laugh aiming for where he knew it would hurt.  
  
The mentioning of her friend’s name brought her to a sudden halt. Ears automatically perking at the mention of his surname.  
  
“You think he’d ever be interested in a nobody like you? An orphan girl with no past, present or future?” He laughed, this time cruelly. “Please, Elowen, he’s only toying with you,” He said rounding around her his hand touching her back and caressing around her arm and shoulder. “But you already knew that didn’t you?”

She didn’t want to think about that…  
  
“Then again, he did strike me like a muggle. That brute. Perhaps, vulgar really is his style,” he chuckled. She smacked his arm away from her body and held her books closer to her body as she shrunk her shoulders forward. He side stepped around her this time and stood in front of her blocking her way. She continued to shrink under his intense gaze.

“You’re not pretty, you’re not smart, not even darling or graceful in any way shape or form without an ounce of elegance-“  
  
“I already told you to stay away from me,” Her jaw was beginning to hurt from clenching it so tightly. Eyes beginning to sting. Why wouldn’t he leave her alone? Why did he have to be so cruel? Why couldn’t she see past the fear and find the strength to attack him with all of her bloody rage?  
  
“Who told you to say that?” He spoke in a low voice. “Your friends? The ones who don’t even like you?”

She was at a loss of words.  


“They don’t know what’ good for you,” He paused. _“But I do,”_ he insisted. His voice dripping like a bittersweet honey, the type that lingers in flytraps ready to capture an innocent passing by fly. How can someone be so damn fucking twisted? Who did this guy think he was?

“God, Ellar, you’re such a-“ She couldn’t even manage to get the word out. “You’re such a-“ As much as she pondered on picking the perfect word only one word came to mind.   
  
Ellar didn’t have a moment to react little by little a headache he had been feeling evolved into a migraine as his head began to swell and grow larger and larger until it inflated into large balloon. _“You’re such a fat head!”_ She stomped her foot down and whipping her wand out of the inside of her sleeve zapped his back as he scurried away spitting out a trail of curses. His small body tipping from side to side as he struggled to keep his bobble head up. She would have to deal with whatever his mother would do to her over the holiday when the time came.   
  
Frustrated she wiped the one tear that had managed to escape. 

“Nel?”

_‘Oh Merlin, really? Now what?’_ Spinning on her heel she turned to face Harry Potter with her wand still held high and up.   
  
“Are you alright?” He asked with a confused look on his face. Shouldn’t he be in History of Magic?   
  
“Oh, er- yeah,” She lied wiping at the tip of her nose and slid her pale wand up her sleeve.   
  
“Was he bugging you?” By now Harry knew that Saintday kept these types of things to herself. The abuse, the bullying- He understood why, probably better than anybody else at Hogwarts and decided not to press about it today. However, things like this he couldn’t ignore. His green eyes remained looking in the direction in which Ellar had turned and vanished into.   
  
“I took care of him already,” She muttered looking down at her cheap black shoes. Suddenly she didn’t feel like going to class anymore.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Really?” Harry pressed. Why couldn’t she confide in him? Why didn’t she _really_ trust him? She would rather be alone that reach out to him, Fred, George or anyone really. Of course, he had noticed the girl’s aloofness as of the late and what was that whole thing in the morning? Cedric Diggory having a word with her.   
  
“I think the question is, how are _you_ Harry? I’m sure dealing with the Tri-Wizard Tournament has been bad enough as it is. Tell me,” She crossed her arms and approached him immediately switching the topic of conversation with ease. “What are you going to do with all that fame and glory?” She arched an eyebrow somewhat still bitter that Harry was allowed to enter the tournament and she hadn’t been.   
  
Harry frowned at her comment. He couldn’t tell if she was being spiteful or not.  
  
“I don’t care for either,” The Boy Who Lived admitted humbly.   
Funny, considering it would be something The Girl Who Died would kill for.

“Hm,” She pondered on that thought wishing she could be Harry. She didn’t know if to take him for a fool or appreciate his humility.   
“Are _you_ sure you’re okay?” She teased cracking a false smile. Harry saw right through it.   
  
“You know,” He began. “We should go to Hogsmeade someday. As friends. I know you’re banned from the Three Broomsticks, but there’s other stuff to do. We can go to Zonko’s? Or Honeyduke’s?” He offered with a casual shrug.

So, Harry actually was her friend. She felt rather foolish for forgetting but with the Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry and clouds of anxious thoughts it was easy to forget. “Hogsmeade sounds nice,” She smiled at him sincerely.   
  
Harry was about to respond when someone bumped into his back shoving him forward. Irritated he turned to see Malfoy swaggering down the steps standing next to him shooting daggers at him.   
His eyes seemed to shout, ‘ _Shove it!’  
  
_ Without acknowledging Potter, Draco turned to look at the girl.  
Harry returned the death stare.

“I’ll-uh, see you later Harry,” Nel broke the tense silence between the three bidding the Gryffindor goodbye subtly asking him for some space. “Yeah,” Harry looked between them. “Maybe at Hogsmeade,” He said purposely knowing it would irritate Malfoy to no end. He waved at her before walking away in the direction of Professor Moody’s classroom.

_“Hogsmeade?”_ Draco exclaimed. “I heard you were with bad company, but _Potter?_ Out of all people,” He combed his hair away from his forehead and shook his head. “And you’re going to Hogsmeade with _him?”_

She didn’t answer and kept her arms crossed looking at him with an irritated expression. They were just going as friends but that was none of his business.

“I’ve been with _worse company_ ,” She shot at him remembering that the time the two had attended together.

_Ouch._

Despite the jab he let out a throaty chuckle.   
  
“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” He asked.   
“Aren’t _you_ supposed to be in class?” She shot back irritated that her hostile comment hadn’t made him upset.  
  
“Seems hardly fair you get to skip while the rest of us have to deal with Binns incessant rambling?”

_Touché._  
  
“What is it to you if I’m in class or not?” She sighed pessimistically before walking away towards the Slytherin dormitory. The morning had been way too long. She didn’t want to think about anything Ellar had said to her. The thought of crawling into bed and laying in a fetal position underneath the covers passing the day by doing nothing was very tempting.  
  
“Davis and Greengrass still giving you a hard time?” He changed the topic both of his eyebrows knitting, the edges of his mouth pulling down in a frown. He sounded genuinely concerned, but then again- did he really care?  
She wanted to block him out of her head, but Ellar’s hurtful words sounded back like an echo: “ _He’s only toying with you.”_   
  
She remained quiet her answer was her silence.

“I’m waiting,” the blonde said impatiently. 

Exasperated she didn’t mean to explode but she did. “What’s there to say?” She paced around the corridor walking back to him. “My best friends won’t even look at me- I get harassed by Lestrange first thing in the morning and _now!”_ She didn’t’ mean to raise her voice. “Now _you_ won’t let me skip the most boring class at Hogwarts!”

“It’s not even noon and I just want today to be over with! I just want to lay down and _die_ ,” She shouted frustrated.

It took her a moment to compose herself from her loud tantrum and depressive statement.  
  
“Are you done?” He cocked an eyebrow up.  
  


She felt her blood begin to boil. Why was he invalidating her emotions like that? She was about to push him away just like she had done to Ellar, like she did to everyone when he interrupted her in a surprisingly cool tone.

“I’ll take care of it,” He said cooly trying to reassure the girl.   
She was more than perplexed by his statement. Taken aback she looked at him oddly. Just what did he mean by that?   
  
“Just like I took care of Lestrange.”  
  
 _“Huh?”_ Slowly she could feel her anger begin to melt away.  
  
A mischievous smile grew on his face before he began to walk away. Purposely leaving her to wonder just what he had done.

“Draco?” She asked in awe. _“What did you do?”_

“Wouldn’t you love to know,” he let out a low laugh and walked away leaving a very confused Slytherin girl behind.

* * *

Nel never apologized to Tracey or to Daphne. She knew that sometimes it was best to yield and bend a knee in these types of circumstances. However, this time she would not apologize. It was her story and they had taken that away from her.

It didn’t help that since she had been seen with Ellar that day some of the Slytherin girls began to call her nasty synonyms like _victim, tease, and attention-seeker, slut_ was also on that list.

She tried not to let it bother her. Words hurt, even if she had sworn she didn’t care what anybody else thought. Not that any of them would ever say it to her face considering how scared they all were of her.

It was nearly the end of the year. After having spent all morning long packing her belongings and getting ready to return to her guardian, something which she had been terribly dreading, Nel decided to head to the Great Hall to have a late breakfast alone before going to the greenhouse to spend the rest of the day with Nathair.   
It wasn’t like she had much interest in bidding goodbye to anybody else. Maybe to Professor Snape and a few others, but it wasn’t urgent. Besides, everybody and their mother would be viewing the last task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

“Saintday!” A voice interrupted her alone time and her meal. “There you are the tournament is about to begin!” It was Professor Moody. It looked like he had been running around the castle. For some reason he looked more agitated than per usual.

_“So?”_ She shot back rudely. Not caring if her attitude caused her some lost points for Slytherin or landed her in some detention. At this point she was beyond that.

“ _All_ students must attend the tournament,” He repeated again. The edge of his mouth twitching oddly. His eye unnervingly shaking as it focused on her deep frown. “That’s not true,” She mumbled taking a mouthful of cereal. “Professor Snape said I could stay in the castle,” She lied.

Not to mention the fact she was also avoiding bidding Cedric and Harry good luck. Not because she didn’t wish it upon them, but because she really didn’t know what to say to either of them.   
Sometimes words were, well, hard.  
  
“No students are allowed in the castle without supervision. Tournament _now_ ,” He leaned down to try and meet her eyes, but she ignored him. Before she knew it, he had aggressively lifted her by the arm and dragged her out of the empty Great Hall. The cereal spoon she had in her mouth dropping halfway as the two made way to the arena.

“Get your hands off me,” She whipped her arm back to her person. By now she had an idea that the retired Auror had more than unconventional, perhaps even unorthodox methods of teaching, but she drew the line when it came to physical boundaries.

He led her all the way to the arena and all the way there he complained about ungrateful, slimy orphans, or something amongst those lines. Arriving to the arena she realized that it was actually the Quidditch pitch which had been modified to resemble a massive auditorium with tall stands so that everyone could see the tournament. It seemed like the Third Task had not been what her and Cedric had been imagining.   
It was a massive maze of hedges that were at least 20 foot high. The maze was filled with dangers and traps and in the middle from the distance one could see a bright celestial glow – the Triwizard cup.   
The first to reach it would be the winner of the tournament. This was it – the moment her and Cedric had been waiting for all year.

It seemed like the Third Task hadn’t started yet.

She sat far away from everyone on Ravenclaws’ side. The students didn’t seem to mind her presence. Cedric’s girlfriend Cho was in the group and the two shared a friendly wave. Distracted by this, she didn’t notice the Slytherins watching her from the distance.

She sat in the top corner towards the end where she could hopefully be invisible for the time being. Little by little she was starting to understand Professor Snape more and more. She understood his aloofness, why he dressed and acted like a wet bat, always trying to camouflage every day. She looked at him from across the pitch, he was sitting with the Headmaster and other professors in a private box.  
  
“If we were up any higher, we’d have nosebleeds,” a voice interrupted her wish of being _alone_ and train of thoughts.  
  
 _Sulking Simon,_ she acknowledged the ghost boy. Maybe his company was more than appropriate.

_“We?”_ She asked. “Simon, you don’t bleed,” She let out a humorous snort. Everything was fine until the ghost began ranting, moaning and _sulking_ about his status as a lost soul in this cruel and very dull world.   
  
“I mean, I don’t even like Quidditch that much, and I’m stuck _here._ It makes me want to _die_ all over again.”  
  
Avoiding him, really not feeling charitable enough to help a poor soul cross to the other side Nel walked down the stands and instead took a seat next to a blonde girl that had a dazed look on her face and was eyeing a bird that was flying over the arena. She didn’t pay much mind to the bird.  
She was just grateful this girl didn’t talk. She sat pretending not to hear Simon calling at her from the highest stands in the seating area.

“Saintday,” Malfoy who had been watching her from the distance approached her.   
“Malfoy,” the other greeted emotionlessly.  
  
“Why on Earth are you sitting with the Ravenclaws?” He half sneered looking at his surroundings with disdain.

Nel shrugged. She just wanted to be alone. She was mourning her last hours of freedom before she had to return to _La Maison de Lestrange_. She also didn’t feel like sitting together with the Slytherins. What was the point? Why would she put herself through the martyrdom of attempting to capture her friend’s attention through pleading looks of pity?

“Come on,” Draco tossed his head back cooly.

“No, I think I’m okay, I’ll just sit here and cheer,” she said in the most uncheerful tone hoping he would go away, and she could simply return to her silence.

“It’s because of them, isn’t it?” He realized looking back at her friends.

Before Elowen had a chance to answer Malfoy grumbled a mysterious “I’ll be back,” before leaving.

Once he was gone, Nel let out a heavy sigh. She wasn’t expecting him to be back any time soon. And finally, it was silent.   
Nobody would speak to her. All she had to do was sit tight, watch the task and hope that Cedric came in first place.  
  


“You know, it’s bad luck to see nightjars in the daylight,” The girl sitting next to her spoke in a soft voice.   
  
Nel ignored her hoping she would stop talking or go away. She didn’t.  
  


“They’re an omen of death.”  
  
She continued with an eerie soothing tone that contrasted her morbid statement. Looking at her closely she realized who it was.

 _Great_ – Out of all people she had to end up sitting next to _Looney Lovegood._ Momentarily distraught, she didn’t feel the presence creep up behind her.  
  


“Hello, Elowen,” The silky voice made her body turn stiff.  
  
With an abrupt flinch she slapped the owner of the voice by swatting her arm over her shoulder. She didn’t stop to see his reaction simply stood up and walked away.

  
“I’m glad you made it,” Ellar said strained trying to keep his temper in check, rubbing his wounded nose. He snorted and sniffed right afterwards cleaning his nostrils from any leftover substance.

“Bloody fuggin hell,” She exclaimed vulgarly her temper leaping from zero to hundred. _“Merlin,”_ She growled out pulling out at the roots of her hair in stress. “Leave me alone!”

God all she wanted to do was be alone and stay alone in the stupid castle and marinate in the misery and little time that was left of her few hours of freedom. She noticed Moody standing near the exit of the stands. He had witnessed the entire interaction and hadn’t even flinched. Why hadn’t he come and jinxed Lestrange just like he had done to Malfoy earlier in the year?  
  
Frustrated she decided to head the opposite way, descending down the stairs of the stands heading down underneath them.

Walking underneath the stands she followed the trail which led to the Champion’s Tent. However, hearing a creak she stopped and turned, but didn’t see anyone behind.

It was suspicious.   
  
“Where are you going?” Simon suddenly appeared levitating besides her. “Away,” She grumbled pessimistically.   
“You know the champions’ tent is on the other side, right?”  
  
There was no use in avoiding it, but maybe there was just no going around it. She’d have to face Cedric and Harry eventually.  
  
“Thanks,” She said shortly, not lengthening the conversation but not dismissing him either. She walked a long way, he hovered slightly behind. Once outside of the champions’ tent she assumed the participants were probably being interviewed by the media and preparing for the task.

She stood outside anxiously fidgeting for a moment and took a huge breath.

“You know it’s for champions only, right?” Simon said.   
“rules are for fools,” She scoffed self-importantly suddenly feeling some of the nervousness melt away as she pushed the tarp away and stepped in. She ignored the “Champions only!” Shout that came from a blonde journalist in the back.

All four champions turned to look at the intruder.   
“Nel!” Harry was the first to approach her. He was wearing a sporty long sleeve maroon shirt that was half black.   
“What are you doing here?” He asked surprised.   
  
“Harry,” She exhaled the breath she had been holding. Her dark eyes darted from Harry’s green to meet her friend’s across on the other side of room.   
“I just came to wish you good luck.” She really did. Even if her money was running on Cedric. “If you get lost, remember to keep your hand to the right, and eventually you’ll find your way out,” She advised wisely.

“Thanks, good advice,” He nodded looking exhausted.   
“You’ll do great, I know it,” She slapped his arm stating the end of the brief conversation. She turned to Cedric. _‘Harry already had made a name for himself, fame, fortune… Why not give somebody else a chance? It would be selfish of him not to do so’,_ she thought to herself with bitter resentment.

“Nel, you came,” Cedric looked pleasantly surprised as he approached the two students. Harry looked between the Hufflepuff and the Slytherin peculiarly. He had only seen the two of them interact a handful of times. However, after seeing the two in the Great Hall he decided to keep a close eye on them using the Marauder’s Map. To his surprise he found the two would sometimes vanish off the map. Not only that but they also spent a conspicuous amount of time together. _Alone._

_‘But wasn’t Cedric with Cho?’  
  
_

Harry looked at them, it didn’t look like that type of relationship to him. However, with Saintday- it was always hard to tell these kinds of things.

The Chosen one pretended to busy himself with warming up and stepped away from the two.

“I’ll admit,” She began timidly. “I wasn’t going to come,” She admitted with discomfort, “Yet, here I am.”

A normal person would’ve perhaps taken offense to this but not Cedric. Instead, he chuckled at this. It was one of the great things about him, one of the things that made him so cool and easy going in the eyes of well, practically everyone.   
  
“I can’t believe you weren’t going to come bid your favorite person good luck,” he shook his head still wearing an askew smile that was perfect on him. This time it was her turn to laugh. “ _You?_ My favorite _person_?”  
  
“It’s been a pleasure Diggory, but I’m afraid this has all been business, not personal,” She joked stretching out her hand to him like partners usually did at the end of a successful business deal. Both shared a laugh.   
“Good luck. You’ve got it in the bag!”

Cedric smiled back and stretched out his hand to shake hers. However, instead, he pulled her into a hug. The girl wasn’t surprised by the gesture, she welcomed it and hugged her friend back.   
  
“Whatever happens Nel,” Cedric said pulling away. “If I win or lose, we’ll still be friends, right?”   
  
She wanted to joke and say that hadn’t been a plan of their business deal but chose not to. She was in a lonely moment of time, scarce in friends, and Cedric was a very good one at that. “Why wouldn’t we be?” She arched an eyebrow acting perplexed at his question.

“Good,” He nodded. “Because I’m going to need some eyes and ears in Gringotts when you get there. Specially since I’ll be working for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement starting this summer,” he boasted.

His friend couldn’t help but be genuinely happy for her. He was one step closer in the long way to accomplishing his goal as the next Ministry of Magic. She congratulated him and their moment was interrupted when a loud announcement was made indicating it was time for the champions to take their positions in their designated areas of the maze.

“Good luck everyone!” She said in general to all, including Viktor and Fleur.   
  
“I’ll see you on the other side!” Cedric waved as he began to walk away. “Oh, and Nel?” He paused on his step. “Be good?” He chuckled heartily before exiting the tent the opposite way.

To the Slytherin’s surprise Harry lingered behind.

“You’ll do fine,” She gave him a half side hug. “See you on the other side,” She exited the tent.   
  


Walking out of the tent and underneath the tall stands she looked for Simon, but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she saw Professor Moody approaching the tent. The scowl on his face was deeper than usual and his walk was rushed. He did not look pleased.

“Oh, the task is about to start,” She explained. “I was just returning to-“   
  
She ducked barely dodging a nasty hex the professor had cast in her direction. Her shocked mind barely had time to register when he again tried to hex her.

_“Immobulus,”_ He spat.   
_“Protego!”_ She blocked with swiftness.

“Professor,” She was tongue tied. There was no time to ask questions. Mad-Eye was lashing all kinds of spells in her direction. The attacks weren’t calculated yet weren’t sporadic either.

Nel took what she had said in the beginning of the year.   
So far, they had had a mass murderer, an idiot and a werewolf as a professor. This was a surprise – she hadn’t dealt with a psychopath before.

Taking back steps, she looked up the tall ceiling where people were sitting down witnessing the tournament. All oblivious to the hell that was being raised literally underneath their noses.   
“Help!” She shouted loudly hoping anybody would see her, would hear her. She shouted again until she backed up to a wooden rod that held the stadium up.

  
She raised her wand ready to cast any spell to the ceiling of people. Maybe then somebody would-  
  
 _“Incarcerous!”_ Like serpents, thorny ropes magically appeared and crawled over her body binding her with knots. Collapsing to the side her heart began to pound, she spat at the dirt she bit when she fell and attempted to blow a strand of hair off her face. She could see Mad-Eye’s limp legs approaching her.

“Filthy brat,” He walked over to her. Kneeling down he grabbed a fistful of hair with his good hand he turned her to the side roughly, “Scum,” he grumbled pulling on her hair making the student wince. She wanted to ask what he wanted. What his vile intentions were but suddenly couldn’t find her voice. She was looking at the man with hatred when a sudden zip knocked him back. Only then did she hear _“Plumbum rectio!”_

_‘What was that spell?’_ She could hear the footsteps crunching the ground below. Eyes peeled, shocked she looked up to see a boy holding his wand out looking down at Moody with a sneer.   
“Crucio!” He cursed without mercy making the older man writhe in uncontrollable pain. The ropes around her loosened and wiggling out of them she staggered to her feet she looked down at the horrifying scene.   
  
Strings of saliva, bulging veins and a twitching tongue were all in an irrepressible spasm as the man groaned and grit his teeth in terrible ache at the torment.

This had to stop. “Stop it!” She shoved the boys arm roughly.

Without removing his eyes from the professor, still wearing a sickly-sweet smile, he shot a final spell at Professor Moody making his body twitch one last time before becoming stiff.

Elowen looked at him with disbelief.

“I told you to stick by my side, didn’t I?” Ellar said gruffly closing the space between them and wrapping an arm around her side leading her away.

Panic and fear ridden she took his side without question as they walked away in rushed strides.   
  
“We have to find a professor! We Have to tell Professor Snape!” She looked over her shoulder to see that Mad-Eye was still laying limp on the dirt.  
  
“No,” He snapped harshly reaching for her hand. “It’ll only make things worse,” he said before once again leading the way. “How do you know there’s not more like him around? How do you know Snape isn’t with him? Or Dumbledore for a matter of fact.”   
  
Her mind was still processing what had happened. He was right, what if there were more people like Moody around the school grounds holding a wicked intent.   
  
“I mean- you don’t even know what that man was going to do to you. Do you ever use your head Elowen? _Do you ever think?”_ He snapped cruelly making the girl flinch away from him, but his grip on her shoulder remained tight.   
“I know what to do,” he spoke without emotion.

Maybe he was right. Maybe he did have the best intentions after all. He wouldn’t have saved her and attacked Moody if he didn’t, right?   
But then again – he had tried to drown her earlier in the year. Snape had even admitted to her that the Lestranges had some evil plan in the works. So why trust him?  
  
Glancing over her shoulder she caught sight of the professor’s silhouette still laying down in the distance.   
  


“Elowen, listen to me,” His tone was threatening. She started to step away from him, but he closed the space between them.   
“The only safe way out of here is through the maze. It’s dangerous out there,” He reasoned with a flawed logic that seemed to only make sense to him.

Going into the maze? Was he insane?

“It’s the safest place,” He insisted. “Somebody will see us there. We can hide! We don’t know who else is coming-“ He hurried towards her side, trying to take her hand in his, but she would not allow it. Her gust twisted at the thought of following him. All of her instincts should at her not to follow the boy into the maze.

_“You,”_ a third voice made the two students turn their heads back.  
  
Before them stood Simon his translucent eyes were wide. He looked struck, almost as if he had been split by lightning. Eyes wide, thin jaw slack, the ghost remained frozen. ‘What was wrong with him?’   
Nel turned to look back at Ellar who wore a contrasting nasty grin on his face. Unlike the ghost, he seemed pleased. Almost as if he was enjoying this.

 _“Sulking Simon. Hufflepuff died a couple of years ago. Some say it was a Quidditch accident, others say there was more to it,”_ She remembered Draco had said to her once.   
  
_"I used to be the Slytherins Seeker and there was an accident,"_ She remembered Ellar sharing. _"They were looking for a scapegoat and well, there I was,"_ She could still remember the way he oh-so innocently claimed to have been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Oh! And the worst part is that she believed him!  
  
“I-It was you,” She looked at him horrified. “You killed him!” Slowly she began stepping away from him creating as much distance as she could between the two.   
  
She looked in between the two males. “Nothing about your death was an accident. Was it?” She asked Simon who was rendered speechless. Triggers and lost memories of the night he lost his life came flooding back to the ghoul.

“Big deal,” Lestrange broke the silence with a loud scoff. “I had to prove myself to him,” he began. “Alas, my range of devotion was limit due to my schooling so I did what I could best. I began cleansing Hogwarts of the impure. Filthy blood mixed among us not worth the teachings of Sacred Salazar!” He shouted.   
  
“You tricked me,” Fuming Simon finally snape. “You tricked me into coming to the pitch at night and then used me to play your sick little game with your friends!” He rolled up his sleeves showing his twisted limbs and fractured bones. “Eighty-six fractures in my body!”  
  
Nel winced at the horrific sight, she couldn’t even imagine what Ellar and his accomplices had put Simon through. It sounded like they got away scat free by making it seem like Simon had fallen off a broom.   
  
“And there’s nothing you or anyone can do to prove it,” He threatened with a smug smirk with his crooked wand raised.

Nel felt nauseous. How had he conned her so easily? How had he done it again and lured her to this place and almost inside of the maze?  
Lying was a part of Ellar’s nature, just like violence was, it was a weed that had long been ingrained into his core by the environment he was brought up in. Yet, he was beyond the point of saving. At this point, he had no remorse, no conscience. She didn’t want to stick around and find out why he wanted her to go into the maze with him.   
  
“Simon,” Nel mouthed, her movements calculated as she waited to attack or deflect. The ghost waited. “Get help.”

Simon left.

And just like that- like a coin he flipped. Wands raised at each other, Nel wasn’t fast enough to deflect the silent _Imperio_ curse he cast upon her.   
Just like his mother, he didn’t need to vocalize it.

Ellar smirked, pleased when he saw Saintday’s body tremble against her will as she dragged her feet towards him slowly until she was standing before him. A cross look on her face as she appeared to be struggling to fight back the curse. It was useless.

“Y-You’re a murderer,” she spat through a stiff jaw.

More than pleased and feeling haughty he opened his palm for her to hand her wand to him. “See? That wasn’t too bad,” He smiled before brushing her lose hair over her shoulder. Being close enough she socked him square in the nose. He bent down in pain feeling the hot rush of blood coming down his nostrils. God, that felt good.  
  
“Sniff that!” She shouted.

  
Heaving, quickly ducking for her wand Nel ran as fast as she could hoping to reach the stairs at the end of the underneath the stands. Her pounding, mind racing, consistently looking over her shoulder on the offense. It didn’t take the Beauxbaton student to catch up. She could see flashes of red as he casted aggressive dark spells in her direction. This time she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill.

_“They’re an omen of death,”_ She remembered Lovegood saying early. She cursed the omen, did this mean her time had come? _  
  
_

Again, looking over her shoulder, she was so close to reaching the stairs, so close- when she stumbled on a wooden block and collapsed face first into the ground. The friction of the rocky roughly scraping her skin.

Ellar was unstoppable. She winced turning around to feel a sharp pain shoot up her ankle. He was getting closer, so close he lunged at her and in her moment of fear casted the only spell that came to mind.

_“Expecto Patronus!”_

A manic grin grew on the boy’s lips. It was useless.   
Instead, he was not expecting the creature that came out of the wand to be dark. Dozens of night jars shaped orbs of darkness surrounded him engulfing the boy in a whirling haze of energy sucking entities which rendered him weak and made him collapse on the ground. Again, struggling to her feet, she didn’t dare stop to see if he was fine or not. Instead, she limped towards the end. The stairs were closer now. Where was help? Why wasn’t anyone coming? Where was Simon?   
  
Finally reaching the entrance of the stairs she stopped to catch her breath and attempt to fix her wounded ankle. Leaning against the frame’s entrance she was about to cast the charm when she was unable to move her hand.

Stunned, her petrified body collapsed in a full bind.

She fell to the floor stiff, helplessly trying to find her attacker and when she did, she saw Professor Moody straightening out his ragged coat licking his chapped lips.

“Now, you’re coming with me,” was all he said before everything turned black.

* * *

Alastor Moody barged inside of the Defense Against Dark Art’s Office. He tossed the student that limped like a ragdoll on a chair in the corner of the room. Her head lolled to the side as she struggled to regain consciousness. A haze of dark blurs blinded her dazed vision.

“You got lucky, eh,” He said over his shoulder as he opened and closed several of his desk drawers shut as he scavenged for a powder. “Real, real, lucky.” Finding a small vial with white glittery powder he rushed back to the Slytherin’s side.

With a flick of his wand, a robust manilla rope magically appeared binding the girl’s arms and legs to the chair. Head still down as she struggled to remain conscious the man uncapped the small vial and waved the dust under her nostrils making the girls back straighten out like an arrow. Eyes wide, chest heaving, a full-on panic began to settle in as she racked her body from side to side in a struggle to escape the binds of the chair. From across the room, she could see her wand on Moody’s desk.

“It got late, real late,” Moody said flipping a small blade on his hand. “You’re of no use for the Dark Lord _today.”_

She was trembling like a leaf in the wind. Looking at him terrified. Her eyes glued to the knife the man was playing with.

“Let’s see now-“ He held on the blade tightly and leaned in close to her. His breath stunk of fluxweed, not alcohol like she had always imagined. His tongue poked out.  
  
“I want to taste your blood, your _precious_ blood.”

  
The man before her suddenly began morphing. His face molded and disfigured before tightening into the one of a younger man. The all-seeing mechanical eye fell to the ground with a loud thud.   
A thin man with sharp face features whom Nel had never seen before towered over her. A compulsive twitch which made his tongue stick out of his mouth revealed his psychopathy and mental instability. 

She could’ve wet herself with fear. She didn’t even realize the door opened and closed.

“Was the Crucio really necessary?” He turned to look at Ellar Lestrange who had shut the door behind him and locked it as he approached the two.

Of course, the two bastards were in it together.  
  
“Had to sell it,” The other shrugged an invisible speck of dust off his shoulder. Without much of a care he pulled out a small, thin vial from his pocket, popped it open and snorted a hit of whatever was inside.   
“Want a hit?” He asked the man, who ignored him.  
  
“So, what are we going to do?” Ellar asked. “We can’t get her in there now that the Tournament has started.”  
“We wouldn’t have this issue if you hadn’t been so coked up on dragonspuff done what I instructed you to do since the beginning!” The other snapped.   
“Didn’t you slip her the amortensia that I gave you?”  
“I did! But she didn’t take it!”  
“Then who did?”

Both exchanged a look before looking back at their hostage. It had collapsed to the floor that time he had tried to give her that pear pastry.   
  
Sitting in her seat, with adrenaline pulsing through her system she watched the two males carefully and attempted to remember and memorize every single word they said. Struggling was futile. If they wanted to kill her, they would’ve done it already. She sucked in a deep breath as if she were going to sink and held it.   
  
“What’chu starring at?” The man growled out raising his knife. “Wan’ me to poke an eye out?” He warned pressing the blade against the thin skin on the edge of her eye socket. She winced pressing her back against the top rail of the chair.   
  
“Hold her,” He ordered, and Ellar pinned down her left arm. The man she did now know was Barty Crouch Junior undid the bindings of her left arm and rolled her sleeve up over her elbow. She struggled coughing a “No,” as the breath she had been holding escaped.   
  
Screaming, trying to kick, or fend for herself she failed. The knife dug into her forearm and tore her flesh down vertically in a long line opening her skin to pouring red ribbons. She cried out in pain as the blood began to seep out. Trembling and in tears the horrified child was rendered silent.

Ellar simply watched, Crouch could’ve been muttering something to himself gibberish or Latin, it was hard to tell. Elowen thought the pain was over, but it wasn’t, she let out the loudest most horrifying scream when the man dove and with his long, filthy, and twitchy tongue licked her open wound.

A loud pop echoed the room as the light fixtures violently exploded making glass rain. The curtains caught on fire, windows cracked, and a moment latter shattered. Books began tumbling outside of their spaces in the bookshelf and the door blasted open.

The men remained undisturbed by all the chaos in the room. Instead, their eyes were pinned to the poor girl’s horrified expression.  
  
“Try whatever you want, you’re not getting out of here anytime soon,” Crouch laughed evilly licking and wiping some of the smeared blood that stained his bottom lip and chin.   
Undisturbed, perhaps too drugged and numb Lestrange chuckled and seemed to waltz around the room before standing before a large trunk.  
  
Crouch stuck an arm behind the chair and dragged it with her body still on it. He dumped her inside of the trunk without much care. As if she were waste.  
  
“And – into the trunk you go,” Ellar singsong as he slammed the opening locking her alone in the darkness.   
  



	29. Chapter 29

The authentic Alastor Moody watched in his night robes. He sat on the floor at the edge of the inside of the wooden chest. The man sat with his arms crossed over his chest. The only thing probably worse than being unwillingly locked inside of a trunk was being locked inside of a trunk _with a teenager._

An angry one at that. 

He then watched the student run against the wall with a rageful scream and tackle it down with her shoulder. She slid down the wall painfully heaving before rising, stumbling back, and trying again. He guessed her shoulder was probably wounded by now, if not a couple of strikes away from being dislocated. 

“Give it up, kid,” He called from his corner. “It’s useless. The only way out is in,” He said pessimistically. 

“I’m not giving up!” She grunted with pain. “I’m not giving up. I’m getting out of here-“ She heaved furiously, looking up at the unending darkness above the two. “There has to be another way out…” She said more to herself. 

“Who-“ Her dark eyes moved from a nonexistent exit back to the Auror’s. “Who was that? If you’re Moody then, who-?” she was frustrated at her loss of words. 

“Barty Crouch Jr.,” Alastor sat up and uncrossed his arms. He would’ve walked if he could, but Crouch had his leg. “Most unpleasant slimeball. Scum of the scum that walks this Earth. Death Eater and loyal to You-Know-Who until the end. Caught me slippin’ in my retirement,” Moody finished his sentence by cursing words Nel hadn’t even heard before. The trunk was pitch black. She couldn’t see just how filthy the man was with unkempt hair and a growing beard from being locked in here so long. 

He also couldn’t distinguish the features of the Slytherin. 

If he could’ve been immediately able to distinguish just who he was in the room with. 

“And what do they want with you?” He asked gruffly. 

“The hell should I know. I’m just an orphan.” 

If he could’ve seen the constellation in her face in the shape of Ophiuchus, he would’ve immediately known just _who_ was locked inside of the trunk with him. 

* * *

Harry Potter sat in the office of Professor Alastor Moody, crying. He was alone processing the events of the Third Task of the Tournament. 

Cedric was dead.

Voldemort was back. 

Nel was missing. 

Probably dead too.

He had seen Cedric’s life flash before his eyes. The Dark Lord had touched him. Cursed his blood to be shared between the two. Everything had gone to hell. He pinched the bridge of his nose and remove his glasses to wipe his tears from his swollen eyes. 

His head jolted up when Moody’s door slammed behind him as he entered the room. Startled, he looked at the Professor. 

In the same room, inside of the chest, the missing student attentively listened to the conversation that Harry and Barty Crouch Jr. were having. It sounded muffled and distant. Words were inaudible beyond recognition, but the voices were clear.

“That sounds…” Nel said, pressing her ear against the wall. “It’s Moody-“ She looked back at the miserable man slumped in the corner. His silhouette was barely recognizable in the darkness. “Well- not you- and that’s- That’s got to be Harry!” She exclaimed. 

“HELP!” She shouted at the top of her lungs. “HELP!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. So loud her throat ached. 

“It’s useless,” Moody grumbled. 

“It’s not,” She croaked, keeping her eyes on the darkness above her. There had to be a way out. Most charmed objects have a way in or out in case their casters become trapped inside of them, but how would she get out without her wand?

“HELP!” She shouted desperately. Feeling the wall, she could feel the leather interior and, burying her nails into it attempted to climb it. 

“Even if you do climb it, you’ll never get out. There’s a second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and Merlin knows how many more trunks.” The retired Auror explained. 

“I don’t care,” She spat, continuing to attempt her climb.

“I’ll claw through the walls if I have to,” She said determinedly. 

Climbing two steps up, she lost her grip and collapsed on the floor. 

“Told ya,” Moody said snidely. 

“I don’t care!” She shouted angrily, removing one of her shoes and tossing it against the wall. “I won’t let them get away with it!” She heaved, holding her other shoe in her hand. “I prefer death to whatever it is they’ll do to us.” 

Holding the loafer in her hands, she looked at it intensely and focused. She needed something to climb to the top. She focused all of her energy on the old shoe. Closing her eyes, almost squashing it between her hands, moody looked at her oddly. Without a wand, it was harder to channel magic, but it wasn’t impossible. 

A popping sound inside the barrel and an identical copy of the shoe appeared out of thin air. 

Then another.

And another. 

Followed by several more. 

“What did you do?” Moody pressed his back against the wall as he heard the popping sound in the room and the thud the shoes would make when dropping to the ground. 

“Uh-,” Nel stepped back, almost tripping over one of the hundreds of shoes on the ground. “I-I think I messed up,” She said, struggling as the shoes reached up to her knees. 

“What did you do?!” Moody screamed in horror as he prepared to drown in a sea of multiplying shoes.

“I wanted to turn the shoe into a ladder, but I think I-“ She stumbled, trying to reach for the older man.

_“Gemino Curse?_ You _stupid_ girl!” He clung to her shoulder and hoisted himself up. “We will suffocate!” 

Meanwhile outside.

“Harry, get away from there!” Dumbledore said, pushing Harry behind him and the other Hogwarts professors. 

Moody and Nel were pressed up against the ceiling, slowly being crushed by the mountains of shoes. 

“Out of all things you could multiply- you chose a pair of smelly shoes?” Moody grimaced at the way he was going out. Out of all the ways to die, this was probably the most undignified one. 

“I thought I could climb the laced up!” 

Just then, a bright light spilled into the inside of the trunk. Dozens of shoes spilled out of it, followed by a brown-haired teenager and the real and the Alastor Moody.

“Ms. Saintday! Alastor! Are you alright?” Dumbledore asked, stepping back. 

Professor Snape stepped forward and picked up his student by the upper arm, pushing her behind him. With one quick look, the Slytherin determined she was shaken but otherwise looked unharmed. His glare was scolding, but there was some relief in his brown eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Albus,” Mad-Eye lamented, dropping his head. “I’m just glad to be out of that hellish place.” 

“Ms. Saintday,” McGonagall rushed to the student and took her face in her hold hands. “Are you alright?” She asked kindly. 

Dumbledore kept his eye on Moody. Snape held his wand raised and pointed at the impostor. 

The young Slytherin nodded weakly and, looking past the Gryffindor professor, seethed when looking at the disfigured man that was once again morphing into somebody else across the room. Crouch twitched relentlessly, making strange noises as he did. Nel didn’t even hear what Harry said to her when he stood beside her. 

The impostor’s eyepiece fell to the wooden floor and continued to twitch in every direction as Barty Crouch Junior revealed himself. 

“Seems like we now know who’s been raiding your pantry for Polyjuice potion, Severus,” Dumbledore said. 

“Son of a bitch,” Moody coughed. “Caught me off-guard.” The man pressed his back against the chest as he sat on the edge of the room.

Crouch reminded Elowen of a snake. A slithering creature with a darting tongue who hissed when threatened. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” He said, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a skull and snake marking on his arm. The man began cackling. The mark on his arm danced, and its dark pigment shined in the dim light. 

“The Dark Mark.” 

_‘What was that horrible thing?’_

Harry flinched, bringing a hand to his forehead at the immediate pain he felt. He didn’t need to have this explained. It was _his_ mark. He felt the same pain he had as when Voldemort had laid his hand on him. 

“Your arm Harry,” Dumbledore reached for the Chosen One’s arm. Looking down at her arm. Elowen felt the need to hide it. Crouch had sliced her arm in the same place where he had the mark. She didn’t want to know what type of ill omen this was. 

“You know what this means don’t you?” Crouch began. His lip curled into a malicious sneer. “He’s back,” He flipped a hair from his forehead. “Lord Voldemort has returned.” 

His words rang loudly, and the air in the room suddenly felt heavy at the horrid revelation. Crouch’s beady eyes focused on the girl’s. 

“And he’s come back for what’s rightful _his_ ,” he threatened. 

Nel flinched, shrinking slightly. Without a second thought, Snape stood between the two, blocking sight of his student. From behind, Moody looked at the girl’s dirty face. He thought he could recognize a peculiar curse mark on her features.

“You took me!” Elowen sidestepped around Snape. “You locked me up!” Boldly or very foolishly, the girl stepped towards the man. Professor McGonagall held her back, failing as the girl slipped from her gentle grip. Harry’s reach and grasp was stronger as he held her back with his hands on her shoulders. “Both you and Ellar Lestrange!” She shook Harry’s grip off. Dumbledore observed the scene. His twinkling eyes were waiting for something unexpected to happen anything. Regardless the Headmaster did not move. 

“The two of you assaulted, attacked and… then you,” She grew silent. Unaware of the vile intentions the two men held. 

Crouch cackled madly, and the Slytherin felt her anger begin to boil. She wanted to hurt Crouch. She wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt her. Tie him to a chair, stand above him and terrify him until he pissed himself. Maybe set him on fire. 

The feeling of being powerless. Elowen felt as if she’d hit a wall. She was powerless against him, against the Lestranges, and against Cordelia Wool. 

It was humiliating. Harry’s grip loosened around his friend, and he gave her an odd look.

“Lestrange?” McGonagall asked.

“Bastard,” Mad-Eye cough. It didn’t matter which one she was referring to. All the Lestranges were equally rotten in his eyes. Pureblood scum.

“Yes,” Nel answered quickly. “Ellar Lestrange,” She wanted them to know his name. “Former student. He killed Simon Kominsky. He’s been in on the plan with Crouch the whole time.”

Dumbledore didn’t question her this time. 

“Send an owl to Azkaban,” He said to McGonagall. “I think they’ll find they’re missing a prisoner or _two.”_

Instead of looking intimidated, Crouch beamed with pride. “I’ll be welcomed back like a hero.” He grinned, cherishing the moment. 

“Pucker up, Barty. Dementors will be _thrilled_ to see you,” Moody called. 

Crouch seemed unfazed at Moody’s threat, and this filled Nel with rage. The son of a bitch even though he was above the law and death. Perhaps she didn’t have her magic, but she would always have her muscle. 

“Not if I can help it!” She lunched forward, ready to bite, claw and strike Crouch. However, McGonagall pulled her back from the arm, scolding her. “Ms. Saintday!” She said, horrified. “Come along with me, Elowen,” She said to the barefoot teen. “We’ve got to take you to Madame Pomfrey at once,” She said, trying to usher her out of the room. 

Crouch laughed loudly. “Ah! Go on, _dead girl,_ strike me,” He cried out. 

The Slytherin protested, looking over her shoulder. “I’m fine!” She raised her voice. “Completely and utterly fine!” 

_“Dead girl?”_ Moody said to himself, turning. He looked at Dumbledore oddly as the pieces all aligned in his head. Moody instantly knew just what was happening and who this child was. The only thing he couldn’t figure out was just what in the world was Albus planning...

Nel wanted to meet Snape’s eyes, but instead, the Professor lingered behind, stabbing his wand into Crouch’s twisted face. Hatred was reflected on the Slytherin’s eyes as he looked down at the vermin he was threading on. Moody remained behind.

Outside McGonagall wrapped an arm around the student’s shoulders as she led her away. She didn’t take her rudeness personally. The girl was clearly in a state of shock. Minerva was just relieved the situation hadn’t escalated. Losing one student in one day was one thing, but two?

Dumbledore exited the room with Harry. The Gryffindor looked over his shoulder, hoping that his friend would be looking back at him instead, her eyes were glued to the floor, and she walked in small steps as Professor McGonagall guided her to the Hospital Room. 

Nel hadn’t thought of how long she had been gone. McGonagall looked overly concerned. Her eyebrows were turned up in worry. The Professor let out a small breath of relief as they made their way downstairs. 

“Oh, Elowen. We were all so worried,” She spoke as she picked up her pace. “After what happened to that poor boy, we all thought you…” The Professor went silent. 

“Thought what?” Nel asked sharply, looking at her concerned expression. She still couldn’t believe they had allowed this to happen. She had been missing for a day, or who knows how many hours, and nobody had come looking for her. _Oh, but Harry._ She thought bitterly. Looking back, the only reason they had found her, and Moody was probably because Harry was in a room and _in danger._ If he hadn’t been there… Only the stars know what would’ve happened. Looking over her shoulder, she realized Harry and Dumbledore were gone.   
  


_‘Fuck, if Harry went missing for a minute, the world would probably end.’_

“Well,” McGonagall began with discomfort. “We thought you’d been killed dear,” she said gravely. 

Elowen had no reaction to this. Yes, Ellar had killed people before. She had gotten really lucky this time. However, Simon hadn’t been that lucky…

“Maybe Simon can find some peace now,” She muttered absentmindedly thinking the older witch had been referring to the ghost in the Quidditch field.

She felt great relief after having confessed about Ellar’s abuse. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. This was grave enough, and she had heard what Dumbledore had said about Azkaban. This time consequences would be severe. There was no way the rat-faced git would be able to lawyer his way out of this one. 

The two were walking by the Great Hall, nearing the Hospital room at this point. Who knew what time it was. It was night. The castle was dark except for the few torches that lit the school corridors. 

“Nel,” The Professor began slowly, acknowledging her preferred name. She slowed down the pace to a halt. The Slytherin looked at her with confusion. She had never seen the Professor look so hesitant before speaking. Minerva measured her words with scrutiny and care. _“There has been an accident,”_ She wanted to say. However, Cedric Diggory’s death had been no accident. McGonagall didn’t think the two had a relationship. Still, these things had to be handled carefully. 

She placed a soft touch on the girl’s shoulder before delivering the hard news. “Cedric Diggory has passed,” she spoke in a gentle tone. 

Nel’s dark eyes narrowed with further confusion. She then let out a small laugh. “Passed what?” She asked, perplexed, eyes lighting with excitement. She had even forgotten about the Triwizard Tournament. “Did he pass the final task? Did he win the Tournament?”

Or did Harry win? He hadn’t looked very elated when she saw him only a few moments ago. What had he even been doing in Moody’s office?

“No.” This time Professor McGonagall reached for both of her hands. She held them in hers and patted one lightly, “Dear, Cedric is dead.”

Nel was in denial. The news didn’t sink. Maybe she didn’t want them to. She pretended not to see the defeated look on McGonagall’s eyes or the somber edge to her voice. “Yeah, _dead tired,_ I bet,” She smiled a little, hoping the Professor would return the gesture. 

She didn’t. 

Instead, the Professor continued. Nel’s face began breaking, her chin quivering, nostrils beginning to flare. Her stomach dropped, and she suddenly felt cold.

It wasn’t true.

It couldn’t be true. 

“Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort.” 

* * *

It was the last day of school. 

Startled, twitching awake, Nel sat up, her vision still blurry as everything that happened the previous day came rushing back to her. 

“You’re awake,” She ignored the voice. 

She was in the hospital room. She could still remember the conversation she had had with Professor McGonagall just a few hours ago. Fragments and pieces of memories from the night before in which the Professor consoled her about Cedric’s death. Nel cried until the point where she couldn’t speak anymore, and Madame Pomfrey gave her a sleeping draught.

She let out a whimper and brought both of her hands up to bury her face into. Her eyes felt crusty. They were swollen and dry, and her nostrils were scratchy. 

“I’m sorry,” The voice spoke again. Lowering her hands after a moment, she turned to face Harry, who was sitting at the foot of her bed in the Hospital Room. His head was lowered, tone was low with sorrow. 

The Slytherin climbed on her knees and hugged them, shrinking to the opposite side of the bed. She noticed she had been changed into a pair of her old striped pajamas. They were worn and old, with tattered holes on the sleeves. Not that any of that mattered at the moment. 

“I can’t believe he’s gone,” She let out a dry sob. 

Professor McGonagall had explained to her what had happened in the Third Task of the Tournament. She had also explained that Harry had been the only witness to the crime. “I can’t believe-“ Her voice faded again, breaking into a high pitch. 

“Please tell me he didn’t suffer Harry,” She looked at her hands. Harry looked at her heartbroken expression. “Please!” She cried out to him. 

“He didn’t,” Harry was quick to answer. It was almost rehearsed. It was something he couldn’t possibly know. No matter how many people asked him, Harry wouldn’t go into detail. He wouldn’t talk about Voldemort or about what had transpired in the graveyard. Even the room looked darker, grayer with the foul weather of the day. 

“Is there…” Nel cleared her raspy throat. “Do you know if there’s a spell to bring people back from the dead?”

As far as Harry knew, there wasn’t. It was one of the first rules of magic. Once you’re dead, well, you’re dead. Unless you become a ghost. He never had entirely understood how that worked. Then again, he reasoned not many wizards did either. “Not that I know of,” he answered, sniffling and wiping the tip of his nose. If he did, bet his parents would be with him today.

Both shared a long silence. Harry in mourning. Nel wondering if she could contact the dead with a Ouija Board. 

“He spoke of you,” Harry said, breaking the silence. 

“What?” She froze, stopping her dead crying. 

“He said he was expecting his most loyal servant to deliver you to him,” Harry wanted to say. “I think something went wrong with their plan,” he reasoned, alluding to Crouch and Lestrange’s plan. ‘ _Oh, he meant Voldemort._ Not Cedric.’ 

“Ellar was trying to get me to follow him into the maze,” Nel sighed. The worst part was that if he had played his cards right. If he had dedicated himself to wooing her and keeping her tightly wrapped around her finger from the beginning, she would’ve followed him to the ends of the world. She hated herself for that.

“That’s where the portkey was,” Harry explained. “The one that took us to the graveyard.” 

Everything was making sense now. That’s what the Lestrange’s had been planning all year long. However, the question still lingered. Why would the Lord of Death care for a nobody like Nel?

However, there was one person who knew the answer and would tell.

“Harry, I need to see him,” She squeaked, leaning forward. Reaching out to him and holding on to his sleeve tightly. Up this close, she could some of the wounds from the previous day. 

“Who?” Harry asked, confused. 

“Sirius,” She clarified. Nel had a feeling Snape knew more than he was letting on, but for some reason, the old bat was withholding information from her, and there was no way he was cracking any time soon. “Please,” She pleaded with Harry. She could’ve begged him to let her see and or speak to Sirius Black.

Harry could see the desperation in her eyes. 

“I’ve been trying not to think about it, but I can’t stop thinking about it,” her voice broke as her eyes began to water once again. “I _need_ to know why that man wants me. I need to know who I am,” She let out a shaky breath. “I need to know what they did to me. Why they did it. Why?” Her grip tightened. 

Harry was supposed to deny the whereabouts or even the fact he had any communication with his godfather. “I’ll see what I can do,” he agreed. 

She didn’t hesitate in lunging her arms around him, holding him in a thankful embrace. She buried her face on his shoulder. As per usual, Harry couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by the gesture. 

Unknowing to the two, a pair of silver eyes watched bitterly from the Hospital Wing entrance. The Slytherin’s hands balled into fists at what he considered to be the _horrifying_ scene he was witnessing. _Of course, it had to be Potter._

Nel’s eyes turned to Draco, who remained composed despite his wild jealousy churning and internally nagging at him. 

However, his composure was short-lived. 

“You’re a dead man, Potter!” Draco stormed in, whipping his wand out. 

Harry raised his in defense. Nel pulled away from Harry unbothered. Malfoy was the least of her problems right now. Harry cleared his throat, his face a little red at the girl’s gesture.

“Malfoy!” Nel exclaimed, shooting deathly daggers at the boy. She spoke to him the way you would speak to a dog when you want him to behave. 

Draco was angry. Of course, Potter gets to show off and win the Tournament, Potter catches Barty Crouch Jr. in the act and has him sent to Azkaban, and then he makes a move on _his_ girl? 

It wasn’t going to happen. Not on his watch. 

Harry then remembered he had seen Mr. Malfoy at the graveyard. Groveling as one of Voldemort’s most loyal servants. He couldn’t stand the sight of Malfoy. Who knew just how much Draco knew about the incident.   
“I have to go,” Harry said and shot a menacing look in Malfoy’s direction. Harry’s green eyes had turned into slits. That slimy weasel and his cowardly father, both would be troublesome. Draco was involved in all of this. Harry had to be careful with whatever he trusted Elowen with, considering how close the two Slytherins were. Did she know his family was on Voldemort’s side?

“You better watch it, Malfoy,” Harry spat. It was a threat. This time Harry didn’t stand back awkwardly. He seethed in newfound anger, not removing his eyes from Draco’s silver ones. 

“What is your problem, Draco?” She confronted angrily once Harry left.

This was the last thing she needed at the moment. Another useless fight. It was a waste of time. 

Harry looked back at his friend, and she nodded that it was okay to leave, so he left, but not before shooting Draco one last glare. Nel looked in between the two, confused.   
Had she missed something?

Harry looked back to see Malfoy walking stiffly to stand beside the girl’s hospital bed.

He was dressed in a black suit and straight black pants. Neatly groomed. His cologne announced his arrival before his presence. It looked more like he was going to a business meeting than to visit a friend at the hospital.

Draco was silent. He was still angry. He gave her a stern look and couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth and speak to her. 

He wasn’t the person she wanted to see right now. Especially not after the tantrum he had just thrown. The only thing she cared about was seeing Sirius Black, talking to him, getting to the bottom of this horrible nightmare, and maybe finding a way to see Cedric again. 

Draco remained quiet. Little did Nel know about the raging storm that was happening in his head and about everything he had done for her before coming here. 

Trying to control her emotions, she wiped her face, took a deep breath, and brushed all of her brown hair out of her swollen face with her fingers. 

“Came to mooch off my gifts?” She offered sarcastically, barely looking back at the little flowers and candies next to her bed. 

He didn’t say a word. 

This was uncharacteristic of him. You usually hated Malfoy for opening his mouth, not for remaining so oddly silent. “You can have some if you like,” She motioned towards them, hoping he would crack. Had he just come here to stare at her? He almost looked sick. What was his problem? Why was he acting so weird?  
  


“Not the lemon pastries, but anything else really. I mean, I’m not going to eat-“ She babbled nervously at his loud silence not bearing his quietness. Anxiety got the best of her as she toyed with the bedsheets, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious. She was in her most disgusting pajamas. Draco slept in fresh silk while she slept in something even a moth wouldn’t chew on. It was something that made her feel ashamed and embarrassed.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, and the silence in the room felt more remarkable after he spoke. The fact the two were alone in the suffocating room with the palpable tension was painful. 

She really wished he had given her some sort of warning before opening his mouth. 

“I fancy you,” he admitted boldly. 

His hands inside his pockets. Eyes steady as he kept his fixed gaze on her shocked one. She remained silent at his confession. Her expression was unreadable.

Now it was her turn to grow silent. 

She lowered her head in embarrassment and continued to anxiously fidget with the sheets on the bed, suddenly wanting to hide under them and vanish. In a cleverer state, she would’ve pretended to faint just to avoid the awkwardness that was to follow.

God, this was so awkward, so painful. She flashbacked to what Daphne had suggested. She had been right. She flashbacked to the Yule Ball to all of the years of torture she had endured just so that he could have her attention. She also thought about those rare moments the two shared together. Draco _could be_ nice, he _could be_ a friend, he was _sort of_ handsome, but then again-   
She looked at the childish way he had just stormed in and threatened Harry.   
The way he could be so demanding and selfish was a turn off. Besides, it would never work out between the two. His parents would never approve of her or her socioeconomic status.   
Even less when they were most likely planning on delivering her to the Dark Lord like Ellar had been. 

“As in, I like you.” He elaborated on his emotion. “As more than friends.” 

What if this is what it was all about? 

Since Ellar had failed in his task of delivering her to Lord Voldemort, it had fallen on Draco to do so. Could that be it? 

But how did she feel about him? She turned away from him, her dry eyes beginning to sting. She hoped he wouldn’t notice.

Draco was in turmoil. Malfoy Sr. Had always taught his son _‘Nobody says no to a Malfoy,’_ and if someone did, he had insisted never to take no for an answer. Here, Draco had a feeling he had met _somebody_ that would say no to a Malfoy.

“I don’t like you” she avoided his stung expression.

Despite her rejection, he remained standing tall, unwavering. Either he didn’t believe her, or as he had been taught, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“So,” he began appearing calm. “What are we going to do about it?” He attempted to negotiate. 

_“We?”_ She looked at him in horrific surprise. In his head they were already together. We, as in collective, as in us. _As in Us vs. Them._ A fat tear slid down her face. Why was he saying this to her? Was he toying with her? 

Perhaps, Ellar was right, and he really was just playing with her. Draco’s family was well known for fraternizing with You-Know-Who, and after what had happened with that psychopath— what if he was just the same? Could she really trust him? 

What if all of this time, he had also been trying to manipulate her. Open wounds from Ellar’s emotional abuse suddenly stung as fear made her act out aggressively.

“There is no _we_ , there is no _us_. You have tortured me for the last four almost five years, and you expect me to fancy you-“ She spat at him livid before letting out a rueful laugh. Nel didn’t know what came over her - perhaps it had been all of these years of pent-up rage. Maybe it was the fear, stress, and loss of the last twenty-four hours. 

“How- “ She demanded to know where his emotions stemmed from, _“Why?”  
  
_

Why on Earth would somebody like _him_ look at someone like _her?  
  
_

He had so much to lose with this attraction – she, on the other hand, had _nothing._

Malfoy visibly flinched at the harshness of her tone. His hostile walls slowly beginning to build up once again.

“You know why,” he said quietly, almost with remorse. 

“No. I can’t for the life of me figure that one out.”

She couldn’t trust him. 

“I know you. I see you,” he insisted.

“No, you don’t,” She retorted, eyes welling with angry tears for what seemed to be like the hundred time in the day. If there was one thing Malfoy was good at was making her cry. He seemed to be an expert at it, not even struggling to manage to drain canals of tears from her sorrowful eyes.

Malfoy started to become just as frustrated. Leaning forward, he grabbed both of her arms, and she inched backward, away from him; instead, he pulled her towards him and held her tightly, dropping his body on the bed sitting next to her.

“I know you better than anybody else. Don’t deny it. I’ve seen parts of you they haven’t seen. The good, the bad, and _especially the ugly,”_ He said, shooting her a look. She avoided meeting his eyes. Nel knew that if she looked at him, she would cave, and she can’t. She refuses to.

Reaching for her face, he turned her hoping she’d look at him, but her gaze remained lowered. Nel looked hurt, wounded, with tears welled in her glassy eyes. 

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on her face.

“I can’t trust you,” She admitted weakly in an icy tone that made her own heart twist. She wanted to trust him, but couldn’t find herself willing to do it.

Despite everything, he had been told and taught. Draco accepted the rejection. He let go of her and leaned back, sitting at the edge of the bed at the foot with wounded pride.

He didn’t even move when he heard the loud screaming and rushed footsteps entering the hospital wing.

“Nel!” It was Tracey and Daphne both didn’t seem to care that Draco was there. Both were too concerned with their friend to acknowledge that she did not look pleased to see them. The two Slytherins were crying. The tension between the blonde and the brunette could be cut and sliced with a dull knife.

The girls immediately tackled their friend into a hug, one from each side, cradling her body and stroking her hair.

“We’re so glad’ you’re okay!”

“God, we were worried sick!”

Draco inconspicuously stood up and lingered by the end of the bed. He scratched the tip of his nose. Still taking in her rejection before walking away without a word of goodbye.

“Merlin. After what happened to Cedric- we didn’t know if you- _if you!”_ Tracey’s voice broke as she hugged her best friend tightly, burying her tears into her shoulder.

“We’re just glad you’re okay,” Daphne said, genuinely sounding relieved. 

Tracey and Daphne pulled away and exchanged eye contact. Both wondered why their friend remained silent. Still shocked by Malfoy’s confession.

“We’re also really sorry for what we did,” Tracey was the first to apologize.

“For what _I did,”_ Daphne stressed. “I shouldn’t have told. I’m really sorry. We really are knob heads.” Daphne bombarded as she profusely apologized. “I’m just glad the Lestranges are all going to be locked away in Azkaban now.”

Boom. _Another bomb dropped._

“What?” She didn’t realize her voice was so dry. It cracked when she opened her mouth, crying out like a rusty squeezebox. 

“After everything he did to you and Crouch’s confession, the Ministry, the Ministry of Magic, is investigated and trying Ellar Lestrange for the possible murder of Sulk- of Simon—- they took him to Azkaban that same day where he waits for trial,” Daphne explained. “And his mother-“ Tracey arched her eyebrows.

“There was an anonymous tip to the Ministry of Dark Artifacts found in the Lestrange household and of her unwavering support to You-Know-Who. Their home was raided some time ago. Since the Ministry is on edge because of what happened yesterday, and his mother was taken to Azkaban. There she also waits for trial.” 

Nel was paralyzed by the news. Her eyes looked in between her friends and focused on Malfoy’s back as he walked out of the room. 

It had been him. 

She had no evidence. No way of proving it, but she knew he had done this. 

Draco exited out of it the room.

Daphne looked back at him. “Didn’t - didn’t Draco mention it?” She asked, just as confused, also turning to look at his retreating back. 

“He was so worried,” Tracey added. “I don’t think I had ever seen him like that,” Daphne admitted. “He even went as far as _getting his father involved_. Hogwarts almost shut down!” Tracey exclaimed. 

“I don’t think I saw him eat either,” Daphne said. “Theodore said he didn’t return to the dormitory last night.” 

“Hogwarts would’ve probably shut down if we hadn’t found you. One student in the Tournament - well, there are risks involved, but another taken and disappeared?” She reasoned.

Draco had done all that? She couldn’t believe it. “Even gave us quite a mouthful-“

Nel had stopped listening at this point. He even tried to fix things between her and her friends? It was then that she remembered. Yesterday at the Quidditch arena. That’s exactly what he had been doing. He did everything he promised he would do. He got rid of Cloelia, he took care of Lestrange, he even mended her friendship with the other Slytherins. Maybe he really did care about her.

Both Tracey and Daphne looked confused as the barefoot girl leaped out of her bed and ran outside of the hospital room. She was so focused on finding the blond she didn’t even acknowledge Theodore who was walking in holding a bouquet of flowers.   
Several gasps could be heard as she crossed the school. Whispering too. It was the girl that had been taking. The girl that could talk to snakes. Slytherin’s heir. The girl that did school favor’s for pay. She probably looked ridiculous running around the school in her pajamas. She was heaving by the time she turned down the corridor and spotted him in the distance headed towards the Slytherin Common Room. She saw his blonde head descend down the stairs. Without warning with remorseful tears, she ran towards him, her feet patting against the floor before she threw her arms and embraced him from behind. 

He remained still, unmoving, and could feel her face burrow into his back. She held him tightly, tighter than she had probably ever held anyone in her life, as she cried. Her hands squeezed his torso tightly.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized. Her voice sounded weak, almost like a squeak. 

She took in his scent, the way his jacket felt, the way he stood so stiffly. 

His hand reached for hers and curled around her fingers. Despite it, he did not turn for her. She held his hand back, and their fingers intertwined. 

“I know.”

She hadn’t even considered his feelings. After everything, he had done for her.

Maybe she could trust him.   
Maybe they could make things work.   
Maybe she liked the way he smelled.   
Maybe she thought he was more than _sort of_ handsome.  
Maybe she liked spending time with him.  
Maybe she genuinely liked him when he wasn’t being a royal prick.

Maybe, just maybe she could fancy the Slytherin back as much as he fancied her.

“Draco,” She said his name. 

Letting go of him, he turned around still standing in the stairs with an intrigued expression and looked at her. He hadn’t let go of her hand. She had been more than clear with her rejection. Draco was close to snapping and harshly demanding if she had returned to further humiliate him. However, the dazed look on her face told him otherwise. Stepping up a stair, grabbing the lapel of his black suit jacket, she pulled him in and kissed him. 

END of YEAR 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Woooooo this year was so long. I can’t believe we are through The Goblet of Fire.   
> Funfact this was actually the first scene I imagined.
> 
> Thank you so much for everybody that takes the time to message me. It means a lot. I’m glad you’re enjoying the story. I know it’s a very – erm – different story than the others. I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned it before, but I always found it very interesting how Harry, despite all of his abuse and suffering, always chose kindness. I wanted to play with a character that did the opposite and was the antithesis of that.
> 
> Thank you, Happy Valentine’s Day <3  
> Much Love, - G
> 
> Any predictions or theories for Year 5? ;)


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